Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 1-2 | Page 241

When I groggily wake up, I find myself in a narrow chamber, lined with miniscule and unlit torches. I rest
my back against the rough wall, and try to find out where this dungeon is. I cannot escape, as the cell has
rusty metal bars lining the exits on each side, with a cramped room outside the jail that had one marble
entrance in one corner. I examine the room closely. There is a figure crouched down in the darkness, with
wide eyes. Something clicks in my head. It is the figure I saw during the fight. It scurries over to the jail and
starts fingering the hatch. It grabs a hairclip out of its blue fanny pack and pushes it in between the gap
between the lock and the door. The door creaks open and he beckons for me to come with him through
the door.
"Who are you?" I inquire. He pulls down his hood revealing a long mustache and a scowl.
"I", he says with a pause, "am Xuan Zang, your great grandfather."