Silence. That's all he could hear. Normally when Cross woke up, he could hear the sound of birds, or wind, or talking, or even screaming. But not today. He woke up to complete silence. It was so quiet that it almost unnerved him.

He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling while washed in silence. He waited for a noise, anything other than the sound of his breathing and the slight shuffling sound that the blankets made every time he made the slightest move.

He hadn't had a dream last night. Just blackness. That was the usual really. He never really had dreams, just blackness or then occasional happening that he'd always forget in the morning.

Still nothing happened for another minute, and Cross was just about starting to get used to the odd silence when suddenly it was shattered.

A rapid flurry of loud knocks rang out, startling the life out of Cross and nearly making him teeter dangerously on the edge of his bed. "H-Huh?!" He yelped, trying to sit up. That only resulted in him overbalancing and crashing to the ground with a shriek.

The blankets and pillows fell down with him, entangling his legs and arms until he was physically unable to escape their clutches.

From outside, the familiar voice of Nick rang out. "C'mon Cross! Training starts in ten minuets!"

"What?!" He struggled more in the blankets, groaning loudly in frustration.

"...You okay in there?"

"I'm stuck!" He called, rolling over on the floor a few times before giving up and going limp.

Silence was heard on the other side for a moment before the door was pushed open and Nick stepped inside.

He blinked, looking down at the smol who had somehow managed to tangle the blanket so incredibly around him that he couldn't actually get out. "Need some help?"

Cross flushed in embarrassment, trying to hide his face under some of the blanket. "Maybe..."

The taller snorted, walking over to him and crouching down by his side. "And how'd this happen?"

"I don't know..." He mumbled, his voice weak with shame.

"Jesus Christ." He snickered, slowly starting to unravel the smol from his blanket prison. "Maybe you should practice blanket escapes in the training hall today."

"Shut up." He groaned, flinging the last bit of blanket off and scrambling to his feet. He glared down at the blanket, kicking it with his foot. "Evil."

Nick had to restrain himself from laughing, grabbing the smaller's wrist instead and tugging him along. "C'mon, I'm not going to be late because of you."

"O-Oh yeah, sorry!" Cross scrambled after him, grabbing an apple from one of the many fruit bowls in the penthouse to be his rushed breakfast.

He let Nick lead them along, down the twisting and turning corridors and countless flights of stairs. "How d-do you know where we're going?" He asked, already feeling horribly lost.

The taller chuckled lowly, not bothering to look back at him. "I'm magic."

Cross blinked, staring at him inquisitively. "Really?"

"No dumbass." He turned and gave the most exasperated sigh Cross had ever received. "I'm following the signs."

The smol blinked rapidly, looking up at were his partner was pointing to see a blatantly obvious black sign labelled TRAINING ROOM.

"Oh."

"I swear you'd walk right past a sign saying the secrets of the Hunger Games and how to win." He sighed, walking down yet another corridor.

"God a sign like that would just be so helpful right now..." He muttered. "I mean, we've learnt literally nothing from Horror apart from the fact that we must get sponsors or we'll die." He pulled a face, imitating Horror's gruff voice.

"Yeah well that is important." He shrugged. "But here we'll get to check out our competition and see what we're up against."

Cross shivered. "I get to see who gets to rip me apart into ribbons you mean?"

"Sure." Nick didn't really pay much attention, a grin forming across his face as they came across a pair of giant iron double doors. They looked at least four metres high, two meters wide. Slight noises could already be heard from the other side, signalling that they were indeed late.

"Watch how they'll all stop what they're doing and stare accusingly at us like we just declared world war three." Nick said, glancing back at the smaller and pushing the doors open before he could splutter a response.

The doors swung open with a low groan, revealing the large training room complex inside. And just as Nick had predicted, all activity inside stopped.

Cross shrank back a bit behind his partner, taking in all the hostile and glaring looks that were shot at them.

"Told you." Nick hummed, stepping forwards and acting like the twenty two opponents weren't even there. He walked over to one of the weapons rack and let his fingers trail over the individual blades of swords and spears before someone finally made a noise.

"District Twelve, late to the party huh fire boy?"

Cross jolted, his attention flashing over to the side of the room where a tall and dark figure stood. They were dressed in a long black cloak, a large hood also drawn over their face. They were skeleton, their eyes empty and black as they stared at Nick with the largest smile carved across his face. He'd heard about this guy. This was Reaper, District Two.

Nick slowly turned to face him and gave a mocking bow. "Yes, we thought the later we came, the less we'd have to see you embarrass yourself."

A simultaneous intake of breath came from just about everyone in the room as Reaper stared the boy down. "You think you're funny, do you?"

"I prefer the word hilarious."

"Because everyone here is laughing, aren't they." He hissed, staring him up and down.

"Internally."

"What's up with the hood kid? Trying to copy my style?" Reaper asked, changing the subject and crossing his arms over his chest.

Nick blinked, taking a moment to look down at himself before laughing loudly. "Oh yeah, I've been such a big fan of you for years, so when I became a representative for my District, I thought looking like you would show how inspired I was."

Cross stared at his partner, trying to figure out if he was being serious or mocking.

Which ever of the two it was, Reaper decided he'd meant it in a mocking way. "You little shit." He growled, readjusting the sword he already had in his grip and stalking towards the slightly taller.

"You're short." Nick snickered, not moving.

"I'll fucking stab this though your scarred throat." He yelled, pointing the blade right at his neck.

Cross felt a momentary flash of panic, almost going to call out for Reaper to stop. But then something sailed through the air and did his job for him.

An arrow slammed into the base of the sword, scaring the life out of Reaper and effectively making him drop it in shock.

Everyone's attention shifted, whipping round to see someone stood on top of one of those climbing walls with a bow held by their side.

"Hurt another tribute and you fuck this up for all of us." They said, voice emotionless.

Cross stared up at them, recognising who they were instantly. He was also skeleton, much like the majority of this room. He had piercing yellow eyes, a frown etched onto his face. He wore a yellow and brown tunic with tints of green, black leggings and brown boots worn under. Their hands were covered by a pair of yellow fingerless gloves, and atop of their skull a golden circlet laid. This was Dream, District One. He was one of the infamous Joku Brothers that trained from the moment they could hold a sword about how to kill. They were practically bred to be in these games. They'd train till eighteen and then volunteer as tribute at their last ceremony.

The smol gulped, wondering where the other brother was.

Reaper glared up at them, but stood down and pointed at Nick. "In the arena, I'm coming for you first!"

"I'll look forwards to it." He said, giving another bow. But the whole time he did, his attention was fixated on Dream.

The golden skeleton stared back at him, eyes narrowed. "Got a problem, kid?"

"Nah, I'm just wondering where the actually cool brother is."

Dream's expression didn't change. "He's not here."

Cross looked up at him in surprise. Both Joku Brothers didn't get in? He thought they'd both entered this year successfully.

"Why?" Nick asked, also seeming shocked. "If anyone I thought you'd be the one to wimp out, not him."

"You're going the right way to getting everyone in here hating you, you know that?" He asked, partially ignoring what he'd said.

Nick shrugged. "Won't matter, I'll come out as the winner anyway."

"You?" A laugh rang out from behind them and the two turned to see someone else that had been listening in to their conversation.

A Skelton stood there, smirking at the three of them. They were dressed in a casual blue hoodie and white shirt, black shorts and trainers. Imprinted on their shirt was a red target symbol that almost seemed to glow. Their eyes were almost fully black, the faintest silver pupils showing through and staring at them. The majority of them didn't look very special, pretty plain at first sight. But then his eyes made all the difference. What seemed to be black slime ran down from them in over exaggerated tear marks that ran in streaks down his cheeks.

"You're District Twelve, no way you're going to win." He snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Says you Killer. You're District Five." Dream said, dropping down from the climbing apparatus and sneering at him.

"Well yes that is true, dear Angel Boy, but don't judge a book by it's cover." He grinned, sending the smaller a quick wink.

"You're officially on the top of my kill list."

"Sounds fun sweetheart."

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uwu cut this chapter off before it got too long

Now we have Reaper, Dream, Killer, Cross and Nick. Just 19 more people to describe Jdhzhsjsjxhsjsj yippie!

Fuck so yes there will be side ships in this whoo, everyone celebrates yeyey

Enjoy, peasants

I'm kidding I love you all

-Jess-