Through the depths

Chapter 8

Khalil

Khalil peered out to the crowd in front of him, every last one of them ready to take a piece of him. Every last one ready to watch him bleed and plead, a satisfaction he would not willingly give them. There were two ways of entry, either choose to get jump in or fight in. He wasn't going down without a fight, even if it meant going against the strongest and biggest person of the group. This was his second time in an initiation, his very first happened two weeks prior when he stood by helplessly watching his best friend getting jumped in. Tate nearly died from the beating. But tonight he would not be on the sideline watching, he was there as the next victim.

"You know the rules, Young K. You can get the beating to join this brotherhood, or you can fight your way in. We all know fighting in is the hardest way in but by God's sake, if you survive, you get ranked automatically. Meaning you get a corner with your own boys, and you answer to nobody else but me," Trevor explained. Khalil swallowed, watching all the guys standing, rubbing their hands as if they were about to land on fresh meat. He looked over at his best friend. Tate stood with his black hoody over his head, his eyes not meeting Khalil's. No doubt he felt guilty about this. He too would have to participate.

Khalil kept his head up, he was terrified and was trembling. Sweat slid down his back underneath his shirt. But no one was laughing, so no could sense his fear. Good, I'll die first before I let you niggas laugh at my fear. He thought of death casually, but his stomach still twisted at the idea. He wasn't ready to go, but then again, who ever welcomed death.

"What's it going to be, Young K?" Trevor questioned. Khalil gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head. I love you, Yaz. He thought. Before meeting Trevor's eyes.

"I'm no pussy, Trevor. Ya'll not jumping me," he replied. His voice shook slightly, but no one noticed because all the guys just appeared to be stuck in shock states, mumbling and looking around at each other. Tate eyes meant Khalil's sharply. He mouthed something that Khalil was sure was along the lines of "What the fuck you doing?" but he ignored it. He wasn't going in as a corner boy. If he was going to do this, he would be ranked. Trevor's eyebrow furrowed, he too seemed confused by Khalil's choice. Everyone was, except for Jason –the opponent. Judging by the look in his eyes and his cynical smile, he was ready to kill Khalil for challenging him.

"You sure about this?" Trevor asked. Khalil nodded. Jason chuckled and moved forward, already removing his own shirt. He moved slowly, eyes glued to Khalil.

"No need to ask the man twice now, Trev, he's made his choice. Right, Young K?" Jason asked tauntingly. From the corner of his eyes, Khalil spotted Tate moving to him. When he got close enough, Trevor whipped around and sent his fist flying to his stomach.

"The fuck you think you doing? Get back in line." He instructed a whizzing Tate. Khalil fist clinched, shit, why would he do that? he thought. Tate knew the rules: no one stands up or fight anyone's battle. He admired Tate for trying, but he knew the abuse would not seize now, his action would not go unpunished. Tate moved back in line; his hoody now slid half off, revealing his bloody mouth. He spat out and wiped his lips. Tears formed in his eyes, but he didn't let them spill. Rule number four, absolutely no crying. Crying was for pussies, and if they saw tears, they would beat it out of you. Trevor turned and faced Khalil and Jason again.

"Alright then, keep it clean. The fight doesn't end until the last man is standing," Trevor responded.

Everything happened so fast that Khalil barely had time to register it all. One minute Trevor was saying keep it clean, the next his jaw was throbbing, and he was stumbling backward. He barely managed to form a fist before Jason's large ones connected to his face again. Fuck, what was he thinking? He should've gone with the two minutes beating by all the members, he thought.

Khalil spat out the medal tasting liquid that filled his mouth. This time he was not as clueless; he didn't allow himself time to recover. He ducked quickly when Jason's hands moved for him. As he rose, he extended his fist straight to Jason's chin. Jason moved back, shocked by the move. The crowed remained quiet at the exchange, no doubt expecting to witness Khalil's death. But if that was his way of going, he would not go down without a fight. He moved quickly before Jason could reach for him. The past few seconds, he's learned that although Jason strikes were forceful, he moved slowly. He extended his fist before moving his feet. Something Khalil hoped to use to his advantage. When Jason reached for his hair to hold him in place while he got ready to use his other hand to smash Khalil's face. Khalil used that time to inflict a forceful blow right above Jason's knee. They both weren't down. Khalil holding his bloody nose and Jason gripping his knee.

"I'm going to fucking kill you. You little bitch," Jason growled. He used his large frame to overpower Khalil. Khalil did not anticipate the move; he didn't move fast enough. Jason landed right on top of him. Soon Khalil found himself trapped between Jason's knees as he received blow after blow to the face. His vision began to blur, and his head felt heavy. Everything hurt, every punch that landed on his face hurt more than the last, something Khalil thought was impossible. He moved his arm to help block some of the assault but that only left his lower half without protection. Right away, Jason diverted his attention to Khalil's ribcage. There was a cracking sound, and someone yelled "Ooh shit," right before everything went black.