Chapter 6: Bottomless Pit
A cold wind slithered through the narrow alley behind the school's sports block, carrying the faint hum of the evening traffic.
Dim yellow light from a flickering lamp painted two silhouettes against the cracked brick wall — Treasure, the self-proclaimed king of the field, and Tlapa, his ever-calm right-hand man.
Treasure leaned against the wall, hands buried in his jacket pockets, his jaw clenched so hard a vein pulsed along his temple.
The memory of Tsebo's quiet smirk during their last match still gnawed at him.
Treasure: "You saw what he did, Tlapa. He embarrassed me... in front of everyone."
Tlapa: (tilts his head) "You mean he spoke up to you. That's different."
Treasure: (snaps) "Same thing!"
He kicked an empty can, sending it rattling down the alley.
Treasure: "He made me look like some rookie who doesn't belong on the same field as him. Me, Treasure! The captain of the Shadow Kings the freakin KING OF THE FIELD!"
Tlapa: (smirks faintly) "Then don't whine about it. Do something about it."
Treasure: "What do you think I'm trying to do, genius?"
Tlapa pushed himself off the wall, walking slowly toward him. His voice was low, almost calculating.
Tlapa: "You want revenge, right? Something that'll crush him — not just in front of the school... but in front of everyone."
Treasure: (eyes narrowing) "Go on…"
Tlapa: "Then let's make him come to you. Let's hold a tournament — an open challenge.
You and the Shadow Kings versus every team that dares to enter. We'll call it something dark, something that sounds like the end of the line..."
He paused, eyes glinting under the dim light.
Tlapa: "...like Bottomless Pit."
Treasure's lips curled into a grin, a fire lighting behind his brown eyes. He chuckled — low at first, then louder, echoing through the alley.
Treasure: "Heh… Treasure's Bottomless Pit. That's genius."
(He steps forward, shadow stretching long across the wall.)
Treasure: "I'll crush him and that gang of losers once and for all. When I'm done, even the dirt under their shoes will remember my name!"
The sound of Treasure's laughter filled the night — confident, unrestrained, and terrifyingly certain.
---
Later that week…
The warm afternoon sun stretched over the quiet street, glinting off the worn-out ball bouncing between two familiar figures.
The concrete ground bore marks from endless practice — dark smudges of rubber soles and faded chalk goals.
Tsebo stood in his usual calm stance, eyes locked on his opponent — Bapala, panting heavily, shirt clinging to his back from sweat. The score? 1–0.
Tsebo placed his right foot gently atop the ball. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
Tsebo: "Ready for the last one?"
Bapala: (grinning tiredly) "Don't hold back. I'm going to get you this time, even if I faint trying."
Without a word, Tsebo rolled the ball backward with his sole,then he suddenly flicked it while moving slightly forward in a fluid routine movement. his body leaning forward ever so slightly.
Then he hit the ball with the heel.
Bapala's eyes followed the ball as it rose against the sun perfectly forming a rainbow as it transcended the perplexed Bapala, the golden light reflecting in his brown eyes.
Before he could react, Tsebo spun, his body moving like a whisper, and with a graceful tap, the ball kissed the makeshift goalpost.
2–0.
Bapala froze, hands on his knees, then collapsed backward onto the warm concrete.
Bapala: (groaning) "Ughhh… that's the tenth time I've lost to you. Ten! Double digits, Tsebo."
Tsebo: (chuckling, walking over) "You're improving. You lasted longer this time."
Bapala: (turning his head) "Improving? You're just saying that to make me feel better."
Tsebo: "No. I'm saying it because you need to be more proactive."
Bapala: (frowns) "Proactive? Bro, I've been running like my life depends on it."
Tsebo smiled faintly and was about to explain when a short beep vibrated from his pocket. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen.
The school football group chat was blowing up.
A new poster sat at the top of the feed — black background, bold crimson letters screaming across it:
"TREASURE'S BOTTOMLESS PIT — THE ULTIMATE TOURNAMENT.
Only the strong survive."
Entry Fee: R50
Prize:R100
It had a intimidating cover displaying 5 shadows standing triumphantly while the rest fell in seemingly Bottomless hole.
Tsebo's eyes narrowed. A faint wind brushed his hair as his smile vanished, replaced by something darker — a quiet, dangerous calm.
Tsebo: (murmuring) "Bottomless Pit, huh…"
(He looked up, eyes glinting.)
...
Tsebo: "How interesting."
For a brief second, the air around him seemed to thicken — the sunlight dimming as if the world itself had flinched. Bapala, still lying on the ground, looked up nervously.
A suffocating aura could be felt from Tsebo's presence almost menacing.
One thing was for sure this was only the beginning of the end.