Blurry pieces coalesce into an even blurrier image, consciousness splicing into sight like sudden sharp light. I lift my head, turning my face skyward at the dangling bulb above my head. The single source of light in a room submerged in the depths of darkness. I am seated on a metal chair, unrestrained and yet fear chains me to it like tangible tethers.
No windows. No natural light. I must be underground.
The fact that I sit unbound scares me more than being restrained. The grim confidence, a ghastly certainty that even if I tried to run… find a door… an exit. There is nowhere out for me. All because I was following my father? Why would someone care? Why would they protect him like that?
A distant rattle seizes my attention. A heavy door opens, followed by marching footsteps. No more than two men. And I'm right. One Caucasian male and a Japanese man step into the pool of light, leaving the door wide open, light pouring inside at the entrance.
