Cannon Fodder?

After closing, Marcus headed to his part-time job. The work involved unloading wares like equipment, electronics, and other goods into a warehouse—wares that were transported over long distances by box trucks across the country. Once the unloading was done, different businessmen who had ordered the merchandise would come to pick it up.

Even though Marcus was only seventeen, there were things he could carry and things he couldn't. The less he carried, the less he was paid; everything was calculated by the secretary who oversaw the work every day.

When he arrived at the warehouse, the place was empty.

Confused, he slowly came to a realization: the impending danger in the next few days had everyone scared. There was no point in working when you might become a distorted lump of flesh in the next three days. He couldn't help but wonder what shape his body would take when mutated.

Marcus put his hand on his chin in thought as he stepped into the large, empty, and open warehouse. Inside, he met the secretary—a petite but pretty lady in her late twenties. Her smile was something else as if her heart had never been broken before or she was just a scatterbrain. Marcus had never seen her angry; she always wore that same permanent smile.

"Oh... Marc Cheng, right?" she said with a hint of realization and confusion, still smiling.

Marcus blinked twice and looked at her blankly. She was indeed a scatterbrain—he had been working there for about a year, after all. What a joke!

"Yeah," he replied, forcing a fake smile. They stood smiling at each other for a moment before she broke the silence in the warehouse.

"I thought you heard the news?" she asked.

"I heard," Marcus replied. "But I thought I should come here since there were some goods that hadn't been arranged last Saturday."

"Don't worry about that," she said, widening her eyes in gesture while shaking her head slightly.

"The men finished everything last week after you left... and as you can see," she gestured around, "the merchants have all come for their goods."

Marcus nodded in realization. There was nothing more to be done. He guessed it was time to leave.

"Okay, greet the boss for me," he said, turning to leave without waiting for her reply.

"Very well, take care. Let's see how the next few days turn out," she replied as Marcus stepped onto the metallic rail of the entrance's sliding metal door. He waved his hand at her before walking out into the broad space in front of the warehouse.

If it were before, the space would have been bustling with men carrying stuff and box trucks driving in while security guards directed them. But now, the space was empty.

As he walked quietly away from the warehouse, he thought about where he should head next. The day was still young, and when he pulled out his phone, it was only 2:30 pm. He started thinking—if he went home, he'd only be playing games, but there was somewhere more important he needed to go: the hospital.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue on the area as Marcus walked over to a bus stop just beside the warehouse.

He normally visited his mom twice a week, although it didn't seem like she would wake up anytime soon. The doctor had said she had a traumatic brain injury—it happened when she fell on the stairs at work and hit her head. That day had been hell. With no dad, his mom had worked hard to make ends meet. That was when Marcus was still fourteen.

Standing at the slightly raised platform of the bus stop, Marcus rested his hands on the rail. The regret still gnawed at the depths of his mind, reminding him of how powerless he felt. If only he had been self-dependent back then—or even if he hadn't had the strength to work, at least he could have been some sort of genius, taking exams and winning awards. But he wasn't, the best he could do was enter the top ten in his grade—seventh position—among the hundreds of students in his year. Yet, even then, there was an insurmountable difference between the first and second positions, not to mention the gap between the first and seventh. He was useless in terms of strength and brains—a cannon fodder? he mused.

Just then, a bus pulled up in front of him, and the passengers alighted while Marcus boarded. After a while of stopping and picking up passengers from one bus stop to another, he reached his destination and got off.

The sun sank low below the horizon, and Marcus breathed in the fresh afternoon breeze before exhaling.

He was here again—three years of frequenting the hospital. He gazed up at the signboard beside the large hospital. It read: MaxWell General Hospital

"Here I come again," he said and sighed.

Marcus stepped into the hospital, where nurses and patients moved about, young and old alike.

There was a girl he always saw outside in a wheelchair; she had been there for a few months.

Marcus didn't know why, but whenever she saw him, she just stared at him like he was some kind of exhibit.

But the gaze wasn't of ill will, after many months of meeting her gaze, he realized it was admiration. She was beautiful, even if she were to stand, with her waist-length brown hair, she would undoubtedly have an hourglass figure. Not that he cared, but she should at least focus on her recovery.

Marcus met her gaze but quickly looked away and headed into the wards. Opening the door, Marcus peered in without stepping into the room. Perhaps, he thought, she would already be sitting up, waiting for his arrival.

But reality hit him as he saw her lying limp in the bed by the window. His heart pounded, but he forced himself to relax.

She's sleeping, not dead, he tried to comfort himself as he did every time he visited.

The tubes and wires attached to her reminded Marcus that this was no ordinary sleep, and his heart jumped again.

Anytime Marcus came there and saw her face, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by her beauty even as she slept, her moderately thick eyebrow, black long hair, and refined features, he knew they had a striking resemblance, well, Marcus couldn't say it to someone's face that he was handsome, it will make him feel unpleasant, like he was some narcissistic fellow which he wasn't.

Marcus' gaze fell on a small flower vase placed on the base of the window beside her cushion. It had been there for a while, but he had been too engrossed in his thoughts to notice it earlier.

The flowers were light pink.

Marcus couldn't help but wonder who had placed it there. He started smelling the scent, it was pleasant. Perhaps the person who put it there had thought his mom would be able to smell it and wake up from her coma.

"Every little bit counts, I guess"

Marcus muttered. He was thankful.

Perhaps it was one of the nurses. Speaking of the nurses, he heard the sound of a door opening and saw one enter. He recognized her as his mom's attendant.

"Good afternoon, Marc," she greeted him with a beaming smile. "I saw someone come in and came to check. I was hesitant at first because I thought it was Elena."

"Elena?" Marcus asked with a puzzled expression. Why would she let anyone aside from a nurse or doctor in here? His brain wanted to explode, but he calmed himself down.

The nurse hesitated, perhaps reading his reaction.

"I meant the girl in the wheelchair outside, Elena Wong. I thought you saw her, right?" she asked as if Marcus were actually acquainted with the girl. It wasn't like he had ever had a conversation with her before. Perhaps the nurse had misread their gazes when they looked at each other every time they crossed paths.

"Oh... you meant that girl?" Marcus said in realization, thinking of the girl whose name he didn't even know.

"Yeah," the nurse responded with a nod, walking closer. "She was the one who brought the vase of flowers. She visits here every day to pray for your mom," she said, her eyes widening as if she were stating a fact Marcus should already know.

Marcus could only nod, he was kinda surprised.

Like, we have never talked yet she went ahead to do this? Well... Perhaps she had her reasons...

He thought...

"No problem" He replied while shifting the issue to the back of his mind.

He brought out his phone and checked the time, 3:30 pm

"I'm going home already," Marcus said while she nodded and left, he followed suit, closing the door, he made his way home.