The smol practically flung himself from the tree in a panic. He ripped the rope from around his waist that kept him tied to the tree, shoving it in his bag as quickly as physically possible. It was tangled and 100% knotted, but at this point he didn't care. He wriggled out of his sleeping bag, nearly falling off the tree at least three times before he managed to shove that into his bag in a mess like the rope. Then he literally jumped off, not taking his time at all as he scrambled down the trunk of the tree to the patch of earth around it that hadn't caught fire yet.

He looked around desperately, the burning heat stinging his eyes and causing tears to leak from them and blur his vision. The flames tried to grab him, reaching out and just brushing his clothing, leaving burnt singe marks.

The oreo whipped around, noticing a little patch around his tree where the fire wasn't as strong or high. Mentally and almost physically screaming, he leaped through it. The fire scorched his exposed ankles, but didn't set him on fire. Thank god.

Running as fast as he could, Cross dodged round flaming trees, bushes and leaves that seemed to find a way into his path like some obstacle course.

The fire was everywhere, never seeming to end as he ran. His breaths came out short and ragged, his soul slamming into his ribcage at a rate so fast that it might explode. It was pounding in his skull, mixing in with the cracking noise of the fire snapping branches.

A sudden ditch came from nowhere and he shrieked, his ankles twisting and failing him as he was sent tumbling down the little hill. Thorns and brambles tore at his clothes, quickly turning them into a bloodied mess before he eventually rolled to a stop.

He didn't have time to lie there and groan in pain however. Mainly because of the pressing matter that fire was still surrounding him at all angles.

Coughing dizzily he sat up, his head now ringing to add to the multitude of noises that were plaguing his skull. His eyes focused on the forest in front of him, only to widen in surprise and fear as he saw a large ball of fire flying right towards him.

Doing the cliché movie dive to the side, Cross flung himself out of the way of the fireball before it could slam into him and obliterate him to dust and ashes.

It exploded in a brilliant ball of light and fire, scalding rocks dropping off and flying in every direction. One landed directly on Cross' thigh. He let out a tortured shriek, the hot rock burning through his clothes instantly and practically melting his leg. Upon reflex he swung his hand round and smacked it off, the back of his hand now screaming in pain as well.

He bit his tongue so hard that he could taste blood in his mouth, resisting the urge to scream and sob in pain as much as he could. His hands clutched his leg, the searing pain making the rest of his body feel dull and out of touch. Every movement he made felt like fire clawing at his body.

And yet the arena didn't seem to hold even an ounce of sympathy for him because before he could even register the damage, another fireball was rocketing right towards him.

Cross yelled and rolled to the side just as it exploded into the ground where he'd been no longer than two seconds ago. Forcing himself to his feet, the terrified smol sprinted, every step on his left leg sending daggers of pain up his body. He ignored it as best as he could, sweat streaming down his face in buckets. This was not how he was going to die in the arena.

In the distance a dip came into view, the trees beyond it being green and healthy, not on fire. He put on a burst of speed, stumbling and tripping down the hill to the safe area. He rolled down the last bit, twigs, dirt and rocks scratching at his face until he managed to push himself to his feet and slam into a tree.

His whole body jarred with pain, cracks and crunches ringing out as his fragile body collided with the solid wooden trunk of the tree. He let out a choked gasp, his knees crumpling from under him and his body quickly following to hit the floor.

He lay there limply, gulping down sweet smoke free oxygen and letting his non-existent lungs have a chance to recover. Rolling painfully onto his back, Cross looked behind him to see the fire wasn't pursuing him any more. It seemed to stop at the top of the hill, the animalistic flames snapping and lashing out in the wind but not actually getting anywhere.

Cross let out a dry wheeze of a laugh, letting his head hit the leafy ground. He'd made it. He wasn't dead yet. He'd live a little longer.

Upon paying a little more attention to his surroundings, Cross heard something that made him feel as if maybe at least 1% of the world's luck was on his side. Running water.

Ignoring the burning pain, he stumbled to the source. A cracked smile formed on his 'lips' as he saw the sight of the muddy little pond. Quickly as possible, he slid himself into the water. Immediately the cold liquid cooled his burns, sending a wave of relief through him and a loud sigh to escape his mouth. God that felt better.

He then pulled out his water bottle from his smoking bag, downing the last of its contents and then refilling it quickly. He'd camp round here tonight. Then he'd be able to get more water in the morning if he needed.

But for the moment he decided to stay in the pond for a little longer, to let his wounds soak and loose heat for a little longer. He splashed his face and closed his eyes, just letting himself sink into the water until it was up to his shoulders.

You know that 1% of luck he'd mentioned earlier? Well he lost that in the next five seconds.

"THERE HE IS!"

"THE ONE FROM DISTRICT TWELVE!"

Cross jolted in fear and looked up to see that four tributes were marching over to his pond, weapons all drawn.

The poor smol had at least seven heart attacks combined into one, his soul beat - which had just calmed - back up to 100 miles per hour, which if you're wondering, is over the speed limit for a healthy soul beat.

He lurched to his feet, splashing and struggling out of the water and flinging his bag over his shoulders. Of course this would happen! Why couldn't he get a break?!

From behind him, he could hear the jeers and calls of the other tributes, followed by the sound of swords being slammed into objects to cut them out of the way. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING COAL BOY?!"

Cross panicked, knowing there was no way he'd be able to outrun the four of them. And if he'd seen one of the silhouettes correctly - which he was sure he had - two of the people chasing him were the ones from District Two. Geno and Reaper.

He'd seen the two of them in the training rooms in the simulation area; they were fast. Very fast. A lot faster than him. There'd be no point trying to out-speed them in the long run.

He panted softly, his head whipping around in every direction as he tried to find a tree that would be easy enough for him to climb. Quickly enough he spotted a sturdy looking oak, it's bark rough and full of bumps and indents that would be perfect for hand and foot holds.

Taking a sharp right turn, he launched himself up at the tree, his fingers desperately scrabbling for a hand hold as his feet dug into the bark. He could hear the crashing of the four tributes chasing through the bracken after him painfully loud behind him, but he tried to block that out as best as possible.

He dragged himself up the tree in the speed of a crippled squirrel (that's still pretty fast if you wanted to know) and pushed his aching limbs to the limit. He bit back cries of pain as his burnt leg started to become unbearable again. Each time he pushed himself up with it, it felt like a knife was being stabbed into his thigh and twisted. But he kept climbing until he reached the beginning of the thinner non-stable branches. He collapsed on a semi-flat one, his mind buzzing.

From below, the figures of the four tributes skidded to a stop, yelling. "What are you doing up there?!"

"Come down! We're not going to hurt you!"

"Yeah! We just want to talk and be friends!"

The last comment sent a few snickers between them, obviously finding each other hilarious at the moment.

Cross panted heavily, shaking his head and staring down at them. "I'm f-fine up here, thanks!"

Geno glared up at the smaller, his one visible eye narrowed into a slit. "There's no use hiding up there kid!"

Reaper grinned, leaning over to Geno and gently whispering something in his non-existent ear.

The smaller glitched skeleton let out a soft grin before skipping over to the tree and gripping onto the bark. He was going to attempt to climb it.

Cross watched nervously as Geno slowly started making his way up towards him, his focus on Cross more than where it should be - on the tree.

Despite Geno and Cross being around the same weight, when the psycho went to pull himself up onto a thin branch it snapped cleanly off.

He let out a cry of fear and surprise as he fell back and plummeted towards the floor.

Down below Reaper quickly stepped forwards, letting the smaller crash into his outstretched arms. Surprisingly he didn't crumple to the floor, only going down on one knee with a grunt at the force of Geno's weight barrelling into him.

Cross let out a breathy sigh of relief, closing his eyes. But then around ten seconds later something thunked into the tree by his side. He jolted, his eyes flashing open to see a knife embedded deep into the wood about a metre away from him. He blinked rapidly and looked down just in time to see Geno throw another one of his knives up at him. This one came a bit closer, but wasn't in any danger of hitting him.

"Stop it Geno." Reaper growled as the smaller went to throw another. "You'll just waste them."

"Then what do we do?" He hissed.

"Wait him out." A voice said softly.

The two of them twitched, looking over at one of their two teammates. It was the remaining kid from District Six. They hadn't really wanted him in their group, but he had a surprisingly good sense of direction, was good with spears and knew how to hunt. He wasn't a reliability, but useful for the moment. His name was Dylan.

The other nodded next to him. The remaining one from District Eight. It was a dark skinned Asian girl, her hair tied back in a messy braid. She wasn't smart in any way, but had proved her worth to the small group enough times for Reaper and Geno to hold back from their sadistic tendencies and not kill them.

"He can't stay up there forever." She said. "He'll have to come down at some time for food and drink, right? We'll just wait him out."

Geno spat on the ground, clearly wanting to just tear Cross from the tree and rip him to pieces.

But Reaper saw reason and nodded, placing a hand on Geno's shoulder. "Enough. They have a point."

Cross gulped, looking down at the four as they all stared up at him and grinned.

"We'll wait."

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2,022 words let's go boiiiissssss

Jdhzhsjsjxhsjsj a long chapter to make up for yesterday uwu

Hope I made this dramatic enough, idk I tried but I'm not sureeeee

Guess who comes in next chapter????

WhOeVeR gUeSsEs RiGhT gEtS a FrEe X-bOx AhAhA-–

Notreallylmaoimsorry

Oh well Jdhdhsjsjjdhd I just really wanna right Crossmare right now But I c a n t because they won't meet up properly for like another fIvE cHaPtErS

Fuck me

-Jess-