Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 429

What is this place? Why are there fire arrows?!
As I stumbled along, my head started spinning, I couldn’t focus. Then came the familiar sound of gyrating gears again.
A huge wrecking ball fell from the ceiling. Miraculously, I dodged it without having my head decapitated. Just as I thought
things couldn’t get much worse, daggers flew out all around me. Flying daggers?? I darted away as fast as I could.
Then, I felt a sharp pain in my leg. I grimaced as it spread through my body. A dagger had stabbed my thigh. Warm blood was
oozing out of the wound incessantly. I gripped my leg in agony.
Inhaling deeply, I steadied my arm and pulled out the dagger as swiftly as I could. This motion only caused even more blood to
pour out. Through gritted teeth, I ripped off a piece of cloth from my shirt and tied it tightly around the wound.
Drops of sweat rolled down my forehead. I leaned my back against the wall for support and slowly slid down until I was lying
on the cold hard floor.
My eyelids felt heavy, my arms and legs ached. A line of tears dripped down my face. I fell asleep with the thought of never
seeing my family again.
When I came to, the blood on my leg had clotted although the wound still throbbed. That was when I realised there was a pile
of debris that seemed to be glowing in front of me. I walked cautiously to the pile. As I got closer, I could hear a strange
humming sound.
Gingerly, I removed the debris piece by piece, clearing the way to an entrance to a tiny room. In the middle of the room, there
was a golden stand with ornate decorations. On it was a spherical golden object which was glowing ten times brighter. That’s
where the mesmerising sound is emanating from!
I slowly approached it, careful not to trigger any traps. It was even more beautiful up close. There was a tint of red tracing the
edges of gold. It looked like a golden apple. Then, something clicked - my grandma used to tell me about ‘The Seed of
Happiness’. I remember dreaming of the endless possibilities if I were ever to find it. As I grew older, I dismissed it as folklore like
“The Cowherd and The Weaver Girl”.
The realisation that I had actually found ‘The Seed’ seemed surreal. This was a national treasure. I must surrender it to the
authorities. Proud that I had just unearthed a precious artifact, I eagerly scooped it up.
POW! As I touched ‘The Seed’, the walls started shaking. I could see cracks forming on the ceiling. I have to get out of here
quick!