The Homeless Body.

11th of March, 2026

Marco held his breath as his head reeled from the throbbing pain he felt. He lay still waiting for the dreadful moment to pass slowly. Soon it subdued and he could only feel the ache in his head faintly, bringing his right hand up he placed it over his forehead to feel his temperature and felt something wetting it.

Confused and bothered, he brought his palm close to his face to take a better look and suddenly he gasped.

Blood!.

That was what it looked like.

As scared as a lost little kitten, he sat up in fear his eyes landing on blood sitting on his shirt, his Blue striped shirt. He pulled it up to check if he had a wound just below it but found nothing. His eyes couldn't escape the blood that was sitting just below his Brown pant, his Black leather shoe on them.

At the sight of more blood, he scurried up to search his body thoroughly for where it came from. Strangely he felt no pain nor was he wounded and this troubled him. His eyes trailed after the pool of blood, following it to the very end.

He paused for a second, holding back his breath. He found it so hard and unreal, it was starting to feel like a dream, a nightmare that he was currently living.

“ Someone wake me please.” He whispered in a shaky voice, his eyes welling with tears.

He stared at his still body laying in the pool of blood and stepped closer, the street lights shining their light on him.

“ Marco!.” He called out to himself and knelt beside the still body. “ Marco, wake up.” He added in a trembling voice and proceeded to punch his still body in the chest, his hand passing through.

Scared he pulled out his right hand, turning it over, again and again, to stare at it. It was transparent like he was fading away. He brought his left hand up and checked it to be sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. It was just the same, he could see the tiled floor.

“ Don’t play this trick on me, Marco.” He warned his dead body angrily and decided to pull him up by his collar. His hands passed through once again.

“ No! No!.” He whispered, the tears running down his cheeks as he withdrew his hands. “ It can't be.” He muttered in disbelief.

Was he...

No! It couldn't be true.

How? When?.

Confused, he got up and looked around in search of an explanation, something that would help all these make sense.

He could hear the police siren blaring from afar as it drove near and stopped just a few tracks away from where he lay. He watched the middle-aged man dressed in a Police uniform step out of his car, his Black hair neatly trimmed on the sides with the middle fuller as he clutched onto his gun hanging on the left side of his waist.

“ Hey!! Are you gonna shoot me too?.” Marco yelled angrily as he stepped in the Middle-aged Policeman’s way and watched him pass through, ignoring Marco.

Shoot me too!

These words replayed in his mind.

Did someone shoot him before? Was that why he was laying there, in that pool of blood? If yes, then who was it?

He thought out of curiosity as he racked his brain for a suitable answer but got nothing. His brain was blank, he had no memory whatsoever of how he ended up here or how this happened.

He watched the Policeman check his breathing pulse then picked up his wireless phone, bringing it close to his mouth.

“ This is Sergeant Mark, there has been a case of a hit and run on Right alley just a few kilometers from the second turning. Send an ambulance.” He informed then brought the phone down, putting it back in its original place.

“ Let's see what you have on you, Mister.” Sergeant Mark whispered barely inaudible before searching his pockets for anything that could help contact his family.

Strangely he had nothing on, no ID card or a phone, nothing to show who he was.

Sergeant Mark got up and walked to his car, waiting for the others to arrive. Soon he heard them driving closer and a police car pulled over behind him.

“ The ambulance is on its way here.” Sergeant Dave informed as he walked over. “ Is it another worse case?.” He asked curiously. Lately, they had gotten close to a hundred ‘hit-and-run cases just in two weeks and it worried him.

“ It's just another homeless buddy, probably one of those several cases.” Sergeant Mark responded as they made their way to the body.

Sergeant Dave stopped and bent over to access the body.

” He is dead.” He informed.

“ Huh uh! Maybe gone for some hours now.” Sergeant Mark responded and looked around to see if he could catch a glimpse of the drunk driver or a strange car.

In most cases, killer drivers with a conscience would pull over or wait around to check if the bodies get discovered.

“ Must be another drunk heartless driver.” Sergeant Mark added and sighed, looking back at the body.

“ Another one without a name.” Sergeant Dave muttered as he got up. “ They should be here soon.” He added and looked in their direction briefly.

“ Hey! That's rude. I have a name, okay? I am Marco.” He yelled as he stepped in front of them.“ Hey! Can you hear me? I am talking to you.” He screamed angrily and watched them ignore him.

“ Wanna catch a drink after this?.” Sergeant Mark asked and let out a breath.

“ Definitely.” He responded and raised his right hand to pat him gently on the left shoulder before walking back to his car.

Marco scoffed, eyeing them then turned around at the sound of another car driving over. He watched the big White car pull over, the nurses rushing out with a stretcher in hand.

“ Over here.” Sergeant Dave led them to the cold dead body and stood by them as they scooped him up placing him on the stretcher and covering him with a White sheet.

They put him in the back of the ambulance and Marco got in too, sitting beside his lifeless body.

He wasn't dead, he couldn't die yet. This had to be one of those terrifying nightmares he had now and then.

“ Poor guy, he probably never saw the car coming.” One of the nurses said, her voice pitiful.

“ You should be used to seeing dead bodies now, we have collected Forty just this week. Sometimes I find it so hard to sleep because every time I close my eyes I find myself here again.” The second nurse responded and ran her palm over her face.

“ The officers said he had no ID on, it means we have to dispose of him with the other homeless bodies.” Another nurse chirped in.

Homeless bodies.

Marco scoffed.

He wasn't homeless. He wasn't just a nobody. He is Marco Alvinda, the heir to the Dreca company. One of the most popular companies in Grela.

He was relaxed, and soon he knew his family would come for him. He belonged to one of the wealthiest families after all and soon the news will spread of his absence and then he would make them pay. Those who called him homeless.

He thought and looked at their faces.