Here's the next chapter! Sorry for the long wait I have been incredibly busy but I will make sure to update way sooner! :D Please enjoy and don't be afraid to leave a comment! I don't own Hetalia or the Hunger Games.

Hungary was busy searching for food and water, when she heard the screaming. She stopped walking and looked up at the sky suppressing tears.

Who is it now? She thought to herself, pained by the image of any one of the countries being killed. It could be anyone.

She held her skillet in one hand and a long silver dagger in the other. She was destroyed by the thought of her family trying to kill her. She had almost teamed up with little Lichtenstein, but in the end she decided against it. She was better off alone anyways; she never really fit in much with the other countries. She was extremely beautiful, but her long history of fighting and masculinity made her a little uncomfortable around other girls.

She twirled her hair around her finger delicately debating whether or not to join the fight and help whoever was in need, but she realized that probably wasn't the best idea. She didn't want to risk it.

An hour passed before she found food; three small eggs in a nest that rested on a low hanging branch. She was pleased and picked them up carefully trying to choose the best way of eating them. She decided she would eat them raw, not wanting to risk the others seeing the smoke from a fire.

She ate all three before dropping the shells and continuing on her long and pointless trek into the forest. Someone was watching her.

Hungary heard the rustling just in time; her skillet swung around blocking the sword that aimed to kill her. She groaned, and with the power only years of training could give she thrust forward with all her might, pushing the wretched thing away from her. She looked towards the direction of the attack but saw nothing. She could hear the sounds of rustling as her enemy struggled to regain his balance after falling deep into the brush. Hungary tensed up and lifted her weapons defensively.

"Show yourself!" She growled, her voice struggled to exude the power she once possessed in her former years and even as a young woman her voice was frightening.

Nothing happened; there was such a long moment of silence that Hungary shuffled nervously and raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

"I don't want this…" her voice was losing power but her soothing demeanor made up for it. She waited but there was nothing. She was getting frustrated. "Listen! –"The figure burst out of the trees and rammed into her at full speed, knocking them both to the ground. She gasped as the other's body landed on top of her crushing her rib cage and pressing against her lungs. She thrashed but the man didn't move.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end; she felt warmth dripping down all over her and she looked down to see the red liquid everywhere. There were so many things that she wanted to do with her life and to think that it was going to be taken away from her so easily...

There was a loud boom of the canon that echoed throughout the dense forest. Hungary gulped as she knew fairly soon that sound would be a clear signal of her own death. She pushed with all of her might and flipped her enemy off of her. Half expecting him to retaliate she held up her skillet with such fury and power it would make any man fall to their knees. He didn't move, his body still slumped to the ground away from the injured nation.

"France…" Hungary whispered as she noticed the longer blond hair that made him stand out among the others. She wanted to approach him and knock him in the head hard with her skillet but she hesitated; France was smart and if she stepped near him he would just attack again… She had to me more cautious. She took a deep breath and slowly moved over towards the Frenchman with her skillet above her head ready for attack and her other hand pressing against her stomach pressing against the source of the blood.

When she reached him she nudged him slightly with her boot. Sure he did stab her but she was tough and even then she didn't know if she could actually hurt anyone. Getting no response she dug her boot underneath him and with a deep breath successfully flipped him onto his back. His eyes had rolled back in his head and his hands were clenched tightly. The small silver dagger Hungary was wielding was buried deep in his chest.

Hungary screamed and jumped back, digging her fingers into her hair and clenching her eyes tightly shut. She shook her head violently trying to push the image out of her mind, but failed miserably. Her hands immediately pressed against her body forcefully, looking for sign of injury but she realized the blood covering her wasn't even her own.

She stood there for a second absorbing everything that had happened impossibly quickly but ended up collapsing to the ground pressing her face roughly into her palms as if they would provide some security.

"What have I done!?" She screamed without concern for the others possibly nearby. The tears streamed down her face and soon they began to form small somber pools in the creases of her palms.

"I-I killed him!?" She cried almost questionably. "How is that even possible?" she whimpered and backed up to the nearest tree before slouching against it. She began to scrape at the blood incessantly, cutting her skin with her finger nails in the process; this didn't even bother her as her mind was flooded with the images of France's cold and lifeless body dripping red across the warm damp foliage.

"I'm so sorry bruder! I'm so sorry!" Prussia launched himself over the tall grass, straight for camp; his little brother was lying unconscious in his arms. He was very heavy, taller and more muscular than Prussia, but he didn't seem to notice or care. His sobs filled the sky; long drawn out melodies of sorrow. He held him as close as he could; he wouldn't let his baby brother die.

Germany's blood slowly dripped down Prussia's face, arms, and coat and his silvery blonde hair was streaked an awful red. His head was pressed to his brother's chest and in this short time Prussia could hear Germany's heart beat becoming more erratic desperately trying to pump the little blood he had left throughout his body. He felt Ludwig draw a sharp painful breath as he struggled to hang on and instantly Prussia panicked.

"Austria!" He screamed. Getting no response he screamed again and again. "You Arschloch!" He cried. "My West!" His steps became more and more uncoordinated as panic set in; with each step his sanity drained until he had nothing left but his torturous and perturbing screams. Unable to focus, he stumbled over his own feet and fell down, hitting his head hard against the earth. He tried to get up but once on his feet he wobbled and collapsed. He could only lay on the ground against Germany's cold body hoping for a miracle but knowing none would come.

After a few seconds Prussia's sobs were interrupted by the sound of dragging. He felt his arm slowly drop to the ground as Germany's body disappeared. "Nein!" He cried. "Don't take him away from me! Please! I can't live without him! I love him too much!" His arms reached out but felt nothing. He felt nothing but emptiness. Nothing mattered now. Without his brother Prussia had nothing. Death could take him and he would contentedly embrace it.

"Prussia, please…" He felt a boot nudge his arm lightly. He didn't respond and felt two hands grab him underneath his arms delicately. He felt his body being dragged, but didn't bother to open his eyes. He felt the warm heat of the fire and the cool sensation of a damp rag across his forehead. "I know you're awake. Open your eyes."

One scarlet eye opened to see the stuffy Austria standing over him with his arms crossed. Surprisingly, tears were dripping down his face and blood also covered his hands and uniform. Prussia looked over to see his brother next to him, wheezing and moaning slightly. At least he was breathing.

"I've done all I can," Austria said quietly, obviously choking on his tears. "We'll just have to wait. There are no guarantees." A tear slid down his cheek and he was visibly shaking. "I've never seen anything so terrible. How can people find joy in watching us die one by one? our friends… our family."

Prussia stayed silent; at this moment the city of Panem was the least of his concerns as Germany was his first priority. He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. His face was sticky with his little brother's blood and he could feel it caked onto his neck and shoulders, seeping underneath his uniform. He felt the urge to vomit as the world seemed to spin quickly around him.

He held himself as steady as possible until finally the dizziness faded and he was able to crawl over to his brother's side and lay a hand delicately onto his bloodied cheek. Germany twitched slightly but didn't wake up; the sound of his suffering was so painful, like a hot iron being shoved into Prussia's chest.

All was silent for a long time before Austria spoke.

"This is my fault," He huffed, straightening his glasses nervously. "I should have fought with you. Maybe things would have been different…" His head was bowed in both shame and sadness and he stared at the bloodstained ground. Prussia looked up at him and sighed, wiping the tears out of his eyes and trying to stay reserved.

"Nein, as much as I would love to blame you… It's not your fault." More tears slid down his cheeks and he realized that wiping them away was a hopeless task. "Germany gave you orders and you did as you were told." Prussia sat up straight and rubbed Germany's face gently.

"Ja," was all Austria could manage as he choked back tears.

"Österreich? " Prussia asked noticing the silence around them, his eyes never leaving Germany's face. "Where is Italy?"

There was a long pause before Austria spoke. "He was getting out of hand and kept on trying to run to help Germany. Germany would have murdered me if I let the Italian get himself killed. I had to tie him up. I didn't really have a choice."

Prussia nodded in understanding and bent down and kissed Germany on the forehead before rising to his feet; he needed Italy and an excuse not to sit there alone and hopeless. He sighed. "Will you promise to stay at his side until I get back?" Austria nodded. "Italy deserves to be a part of this. They are… friends." He made his way slowly into the cornucopia letting his mind wander to all the things he and Germany had done together. He had fought for his brother, took care of him, and ultimately died for him. Why did all the things he sacrificed make little difference?

As Prussia made his way through the cornucopia he heard a small groan and whipped around to see Italy tied up against a pile of supplies, a piece of fabric was tied around his mouth. He walked over with his sword, easily slicing the ropes that bound the Italian. Italy quickly reached up and pulled the gag down out of his mouth. He was breathing heavily and his face was marred with tears. His big amber eyes grew bigger as he saw all the blood covering Gilbert's body.

Italy whimpered softly, waiting for Prussia to speak. He began to cry and Prussia felt a stabbing pain in his heart. His own throat was tight, trying to hold back those wretched sobs he wanted so desperately to release. He couldn't speak and all he could do was shake his head slowly as the tears continued to slide down his face. Italy began to sob loudly, agonizing enough to break the heart of everyone who heard it. He jumped into Prussia's arms and buried his face in the German's chest. Prussia's control shattered and he wrapped his arms around Italy as tightly as possible and cried loudly, feeling his shoulders jerk up and down as the sorrowful gasps racked his body.

"I don't know what to do!" He gasped. "What do I do? I can't live without my West!" He felt the little Italian groan in pain as his grip became impossible tight. He loosened his grip and Italy breathed heavily in between sobs.

"Who is going to lecture me and eat all the pasta I make?" Italy cried. "Whose bed will I crawl in every night and who is going to save me when I need rescuing!?" He refused to let go and Prussia ended up standing there for a few minutes before Gilbert picked up the Italian and carried him outside to be by Germany's side as they both already knew the fate that most likely awaited them by the fire.

America was kneeling on the ground, slouching over Canada's body. His hands were still shaking and even after he ran out of tears he felt like crying. He wiped Germany's blood off of his face as well as he could, but he still felt like it was there; an everlasting stain.

Images of Prussia, his enemy, flashed through his mind; his entire body radiated loss and suffering as he stared at America with those large, hate filled, terrifying eyes. And the warning, those five simple words, pierced into America's heart like a dagger, slowly and tortuously. Who was the monster? It was getting harder for Alfred to tell.

But I'm the hero… America thought, becoming more uncertain with every second.

"Eh...?" America heard a small gasp from below him.

"You're going to be okay," America said as Canada opened his magnificent dark blue eyes, which quickly focused on America.

"What happened?" his voice cracked and even whispering it sounded forced. His face was pale, and his hands shaky.

"You got a little cut, but you're okay now. France bandaged you up and thankfully your bleeding has almost stopped," America smiled weakly.

"France…" Canada looked around but the Frenchman was nowhere to be found.

"He is probably just looking for food or something," America said but Canada was focused on something else.

"Prussia saw me…" He whispered. "How did he see me? This wasn't supposed to happen." Canada felt his stomach and gasped in pain. "So did Germany…"

"I don't know," America said softly. "But all that matters to me is that you're alive…"

"Yeah," Canada whispered looking intently into his brothers eyes. "I guess you're right." His eyes slowly closed as he lost consciousness, leaving his brother all alone to suffer in silence.

Around all the nations the air was shifting. A light wind rustled the leaves on the trees and a cold breeze snuck up and nipped at everyone's skin raising goose bumps and causing a slight disruption in the already depressed atmosphere. Most felt this odd and ominous breeze although some were too miserable to care.

I'm sorry all you France fangirls but I had to kill him. I just felt like it was time. I hope you understand XD My gosh so much death! Now Germany and Canada are close to dying!

So basically everyone's miserable (isn't that the point of the Hunger Games) and now I'm going to go and cry in a corner. Good day to you!