MarkiSPYer

Chapter Eight: Leap of Faith

"Ready?" Tyler asked, holding up a bat as he stood a few feet away from Mark.

Mark's heart raced. He was equipped with nothing but his fists. "How come you get to have the bat and I get nothing?" He sighed.

"A super spy must always be trained in hand to hand combat regardless of the situation he's put in, that's why I have a bat. Plus, I can beat the shit outta you for eating the last piece of chocolate cake in the fridge," Tyler grinned, the look on his face seemed to convey anger that terrified Mark.

"How did you know it was me?" Mark mumbled.

"That chocolate on your shirt explains everything," His friend pointed to Mark's red shirt.

Mark looked down, seeing an obvious brown stain on his shirt, "Oh, I probably should've changed out of these before we started."

"I waited till after training for me to eat that cake but then you eat it? You're going down," He clutched the handle with both hands.

"Wait! Wait! We can sort this out!" He trembled, "I can buy you an entire cake!"

"Not an option!" Tyler charged at him yelling on top of his lungs.

"Eek!" Mark squealed, ducking under the first swing of his friend's bat, feeling the gust of air as the wood flew above his hair, "Don't kill me!"

The man stood back upright, "TYLER!"

But then his friend elbowed him in the face. Mark could've sworn he felt his nose crack. He flew back, falling on the rubber matted ground with a loud thud. He rolled in pain clutching his face, the numbness around his nose quickly taking effect.

"Fight, Markimoo, Fight!" Tyler taunted.

He swung again, this time hitting Mark's butt.

"Is this the initiation?!" Mark wailed, swatting away the bat.

"That's why you should fight back!" The taller man jabbed the weapon at him.

However, Mark was able to bend backward, using his hand to prevent him from hitting the ground completely as the bat hovered mere inches away from his nose. He then pushed himself back to stand, immediately catching a glimpse of Tyler making another attempt.

The trainee jumped over the low swing in a split second, his eyes quickly analyzing his opponent's move.

Mark held both of his hands in front of his face, catching the bat in them. Him and Tyler were now face to face, with the weapon serving as their only barrier.

"This is fucking intense," Mark said, catching his breath.

Tyler's eyes narrowed, and he smirked, "Things are about to get wilder, Fischbach," He  suddenly pushed, shoving Mark back as hard as he could until the latter hit his behind against the edge of a nearby table filled with gym equipment and their bags.

Mark released his grip and rolled over the table, snatching one of the bags along the way. He held on the strap and spun it around once like a hammer throw in a track and field event, before releasing it his foe, the weight of the bag causing Tyler to fall back upon impact.

The man was on the ground, dazed but still refusing to back down, "Hmm... resourceful," And before Mark knew it, Tyler was back at his feet.

The YouTuber snatched a towel on the table and stretched it as long as he could, holding the farther end higher than the other.

"Really?" Tyler scoffed, "A towel?"

"I learned this from gym class." Mark twisted the cloth and charged at his friend, releasing one side and hit Tyler's feet making a loud whip that made the persistent adversary yelp.