-Chapter 15 – The Games Begin-

Antonio watched the hovercraft grab the limp body of the fallen tribute from the ground. The burns on the side of his face were hurting again, burning really, and he was dizzy from standing up. He was alone now, without any defense. Arthur could return at any time and kill him.
"Who was it?"
He could tell it was Matthew without turning. "Ludwig. Arthur killed him in front of me."
Matthew sighed and fell against a tree. "Why? I thought they were fine."

Antonio shook his head weakly and ran his fingers lightly over the injured patches of skin. "They just started fighting after a few minutes. I tried to stop them…"

"At least you tried. How many of us are left now?"

"Eight."
"Okay. Arthur ran off I assume. He's a threat now and we might have to send someone to find him. Or at least keep guard. Everyone else…well we still have a chance."

An hour passed and the two tributes remained in silence. Another hour with sparse conversation and then another began with Alfred asking, "We should probably head back to camp, they're probably waiting for us…"

"Yeah, that's a good idea. You should probably go ahead and leave. I'll spend a few more minutes out here, we don't have much food." Arthur muttered nervously, rubbing the blade of his knife.

Alfred gave him a long stare. "Why? We've found as much as we could. You wanted to come with me, you should come back with me."

"I'll be back, but I just want to look around. In my district, it's rare to be in nature much…"

"You're acting weird dude, you know that?"

"Perhaps I am, it's reasonable. I'm stuck in an arena with people who might murder me. I have the right to be a little off par with my normal behavior." Arthur responded, looking away. "If he begins to suspect too much, I can just kill him. Better chances for me."

"Yeah, I guess. But…I dunno. Something's just off." Alfred shifted his position, not moving his gaze from Arthur. He could tell something was wrong, but he couldn't place what. The first thing that came to mind was that unknown tributes death, but Alfred shook that thought away quickly. He may have only known Arthur for a week, but he wouldn't kill someone for no reason. "Lovino was different…"

"Forget about it. I'll be back at camp later."

"But…can't you just tell me why?"

"I said, I just want to walk around a bit."

"You're lying. You're hiding something…" Alfred didn't want to believe it, but if his brief assumption was correct, he was facing a murderer. He didn't have any weapons, unless you counted the dead rabbit he held.

"Alright, I am lying. But I'm not telling you."

"Why?"

"Because." Arthur nearly growled, narrowing his emerald eyes at Alfred.

After a few moments of tense silence, Alfred asked quietly, "Did you kill that other tribute?"

Within seconds, Alfred was shoved to the ground and Arthur was on top of him with his knife pressed against Alfred's throat. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to accuse you of anything or it's just that you seemed-.." Arthur pushed the blade harder onto Alfred's neck.

"I killed Ludwig, but I had to. He…" Arthur trailed off and slowly lifted the knife. He actually had no idea why he had killed him. "Tension was rising in the camp. Ludwig could have just as easily killed me." He thought, trying to justify the death. "He hadn't done anything…but the way he was acting…he might have. I shouldn't have killed him and I did. That makes me a murderer…"

Alfred carefully sat up when Arthur pulled away, bringing the knife to his side. The tribute was staring at the ground absently, ignoring Alfred when just seconds ago he was ready to kill him. "He's gone insane." He thought, eyeing the knife on the ground. "If he tried to kill me once…and he's already killed someone else." Keeping his eyes on Arthur, Alfred reached a hand toward the knife.

Arthur looked over, but Alfred lunged forward and grabbed the weapon swiftly. "No!" Arthur shouted, when Alfred leapt to his feet with the knife in his hands. "Don't kill me, I wasn't planning to kill you!"

"Then what were you going to do? I know what you were thinking. You're were trying to kill me and then you were going to go after the others. It doesn't matter now. This is the Hunger Games and we're going to have to start playing as real tributes." Alfred declared, lowering his voice at the last sentence.

"But…you don't have to kill me. There are alliances every year. We could team up and maybe do what Matthew suggested. Except without them. It's…it's a better chance of us surviving if it's just us." Arthur pleaded, looking up fearfully at Alfred.

The standing tribute shook his head. "I can't. I'm sorry." With those words, Arthur jumped up with a terrified scream and tried to run. Alfred was prepared and lunged after him, wrapping an arm around Arthur's neck and plunging the knife in his back.

Gilbert instinctively looked up when he heard the cannon fire. He wouldn't see anything until the night, but he still searched the sky. "Heh, with all the death today, maybe the game really is starting." He out loud to himself. Since Antonio wasn't able to do much, Gilbert was sent out alone. He was supposed to look for food. "How am I supposed to find food when I hardly know what it looks like?" He sighed and then laughed bitterly. It was really called the Hunger Games for a reason.

He was out by the edge of the lake, but he didn't care much for the water. He had heard what Yao said about Denmark. Fish had killed a fisherman. Not that Gilbert knew how to fish anyway. He didn't know much about plants either, or about hunting or animals or traps or tracking. He was rather good with a weapon, but not the kind you would find in this arena. The reason he had high hopes for his success in the arena was because he was training in hand-held weapons. Swords, knives, maces, spears, bows, those sorts of weapons.

But with his luck, he was in the only game that featured guns. With another disheartened sigh, Gilbert kicked at sand and cast his gaze towards the trees to his left. But something caught his eye before he could turn away. He paused and squinted into the forest. "I swear I just saw something in there…" "Hey, there's no need to hide from me. I'm too awesome to kill someone." He said with a quiet laugh.

And to his surprise someone stepped out, pushing a few bushes aside. "Ah, hello comrade. It's good to see you again." It was Ivan, smiling happily and tossing a rock between his gloved hands. "How have you been doing?"

"Awesome. Where's Alfred?" Gilbert had never trusted the seemingly cheerful tribute. He just seemed…odd. He held a sort of childish innocence, but at the same time was able to be extremely creepy. Maybe that last cannon was caused by him.

"Him? He ran away. I don't know why anyone would be afraid of me." Ivan muttered with a grim smile. "So, how have you been enjoying the game?"

"What?" Gilbert asked, narrowing his eyes. He took a step back towards the lake.

"You know. The Hunger Games. Have you decided to start playing yet?"

"We are playing, you idiot."

"No, really playing. Looks like you'll be easy then." Ivan laughed cheerfully and tossed the rock into the air. In the same swift motion, he caught the rock in his left hand and pitched it at Gilbert's face with another, darker, laugh.