Rising Moon (MxM) Book 1

Chapter 5. The Gauntlet

Clang, the sound of the large lunchroom door echoed down the staircase. It was an eerie darkness carrying a sense of chill as if he was going to be meeting his maker-- the one in hell.

Grabbing onto the cold, rusty, paint-chipped railing, he ran his hand down cautiously as he walked. The feeling made him feel alive. He was soon going to be a part of something big, dangerous, and worth it. They informed Crescent to enter this door to compete in The Gauntlet.

The first thing on his list was to at least signup. Running late because of classes, but he faked being sick so the teacher would let him see the nurse. Skipping on that accompanied by Ahni, they descended a dark staircase into what smelled like an old, molded basement.

The small specs of light at the bottom step clarified someone was down there waiting. He could hear paper tearing and a male's voice humming a taunting tune. Would Hell be this welcoming? The clinking of Ahni's shoes alerted the male that someone was approaching, so he leaned over the booth and gave a slow wave.

"You're late," He called to the two. "However, spots are still open so, you can sign up here."

Ahni tapped Crescent on the arm, leaning into him with a concerned look. This setup was sending chills down his spine. It was suddenly hot though the whirring of the air conditioner told otherwise. Why was it overwhelming? The fact that there was no turning back from this. He still couldn't somehow convince Crescent to leave, right?

"I'm not fighting, Cres?"

Crescent scoffed at how little his younger brother allowed himself to sound. When Ahni didn't want to do things, he would often cowardly back down and mumble to Crescent. Of course. He wouldn't dare put Ahni in something so reckless. This wasn't his battle to fight. Crescent walked up to the booth; no greeting left his lips, but a simple,

"One, please."

The male looked between the two brothers, trying to figure out who would participate. From the sizes, the way they looked, and the expression they gave off, he handed the ticket to Ahni.

"You're tenth. One of our participants decided he didn't want to show. Sign here." The male behind the booth spoke. An impassive expression, stained with scars and old battle wounds. He looked like he shared his own gauntlet story at some point. Now, just a desk clerk?

Crescent bit down on his bottom lip, offended by the older students' actions. Though Crescent was the one to speak, Ahni was receiving the spotlight. He understood his brother was taller and looked slightly more intimidating. He reached over to take the ticket from Ahni, who unwillingly grabbed the object and gave a little sigh.

"I'm going to act like I have composure, but don't push me. My brother is just here for support."

Crescent matter-of-factly corrected the male with a vexed tone. His eyebrows ruffled a bit, eyes rolling off to one side. Being a constant dynamite, which words could light his fuse, Crescent often found offense in even the smallest disrespectful actions.

The male in the booth was baffled as his eyes widened in shock. Not wanting to make matters worse, he extended the clipboard to Crescent without a word. Once signed, the male would point at the door beside them, clearing his throat of awkwardness.

"Enter, walk straight. Give the gatekeeper your name and number. He will let you in. After that, keep walking. You will see a large door on your right. Preparation room-- stay put till they call your number. You..."

The male's gaze shifted onto Ahni. "... little... brother, stay in the seating area to the left of the preparation room. Sit away from the gang leaders."