With the ending of my last story, I have come up with a couple ideas for my next one. This just being one of them. I was thinking of writing a Hunger Games Parady series, The Tournament of Elements. This is just a one-shot from it if I don't choose to write this one next. I just wanted to see how it felt and what you guys thought about it. This is probably the story that I am leaning most towards writing currently. Let me know what you think! Also, happy first day of school for me and all the other kids starting today! Ugh, I've got a lot of stress in store for me.

EDIT: By the way, this isn't the first part of the story. This is just the starter idea. The actual story starts the next chapter.

"Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic." He tried to convince himself, "Just because Zane hasn't come back yet doesn't mean that he's dead."

Peer around the shrubs, be careful in case you meet another player, hold tight to the throwing knife in your pocket. A constant life or death battle and "only one can remain".

"Where was that little blond boy?"

Cole ventured farther and farther away from his camp, knowing the risks. He was leaving his camp unguarded; open for anyone to come by and loot it. It was mostly hidden, but still. Although that crossed his mind, the picture of Zane's perfect smile overpowered it, propelling him to continue his search.

"What would I do without him?" Cole worried, trying not to let himself bite his nails.

He was a funny little boy, only having turned 12 a couple days before The Reaping. He came from District 10, livestock, and he was heart-meltingly adorable. He had a round face, with bright blue eyes, lively with the innocence of childhood, that couldn't even be smothered by the starvation that plagued District 10. They would always light up at the sound of his name. And his signature hair, a bright blond color that stood up like a stubborn bush. Even roughing it in the wild had barely put a dent in that hedge. It was impossibly thick, often littered with a number of twigs, leaves, and everything else imaginable that would get snagged by his hair that Cole had to detangle.

He had a goofy smile, one that he seemed to always be wearing, that would grow impossibly wider at times. Along with a missing canine, one Zane had knocked loose falling from a tree. That had given him a scare but at least it was a baby tooth. Zane's grin was accompanied by a funny sense of humor. He would find certain things hilarious but others would leave him puzzled. Sometimes the kid took things a little too literally. Way too literally.

It seemed unfair that Zane should be included in the Tournament of Elements. The boy was just a target, the kid couldn't kill anything for his life, even though he grew up in the District of Butchering. That's what scared him the most, the fact that Zane wouldn't, couldn't, kill anything. Even for food. For sure that was going to get him killed. And he would be all alone...again. Wallowing in his grief of that poor kid, the one whose blood still stained his hands even though he had tried and tried to wash it off. Cole had killed one person. Just one person. It was a brutal fight to the death. And he never wanted to ever again. It haunted him, the fact that someone else was dead because of him, the fact that that kid and his loved ones would never see each other again. It crushed him, replayed over and over in his dreams.

And then he had met Zane, a short happy good lucky kid who had literally stumbled into his camp. In the dark. Cole almost stabbed the kid. Zane didn't blame him for killing that guy or almost killing him for that matter. And they were immediately allies and most importantly, friends.

"Good lord, how far could you have gone? How far out do you need to go for a whiz?" Cole thought.

And then Cole stumbled into an area. Blood was littered everywhere, trees and underbrush broken and flattened, gouges in the dirt and trees. Fighting. Fighting had been here. Cole ran along it, following the obviously not masked trail they had trampled through. And then it stopped blood everywhere, spilled in puddles, bloody handprints and feet prints all around the clearing. Smeared along the green vegetation.

"Surely I would have seen or heard the fireworks, right?" Cole thought to himself, praying Zane was still alive and had decided to fight for once.

He hadn't, never would. He knew the little boy too well to try and trick himself with that. Cole found the little white boy impaled to a tree, spear still left in his side. Blood still dripped from the tree, warm and fresh. Blond hair, rebellious as ever, was tipped in blood. Nicks all over his arms and leg, whether from a weapon or running through the underbrush he couldn't tell. But he suspected both. A trickle of blood dripping from his mouth, a sign of internal injuries. A slash across his chest. Blood everywhere.

Cole was feeling sick. A note left for him in the blood. He didn't want to read it but his eyes had already crossed it. Too much blood. Blood was a chocking, muddy color. It seemed to swarm his vision, taunting, suffocating. He felt like he was standing back in the clearing where he had killed the boy. So much blood.

"Pull yourself together Cole." He mentally brought himself back to center, "Focus on the moment. Don't lose yourself in it all."

"Zane," Cole called, tearing out the spear and cradling the boy.

"I'm sorry Cole," He coughed, causing more blood to spill on his white shirt and Cole's black one, "Zaddic caught up to me. I couldn't kill him. I couldn't get away...I just..."

His hand reached out to hold Cole's, a glimmer of a smile still graced his face. Still missing one tooth. Cole's hand completely swallowed Zane's smaller one as his fingers closed around it.

Bright blue eyes slowly closed halfway, staring up into the starry night sky. Breathing still left and entered the small body but it wouldn't for long. It was fading, each breath in shorter and each breath out fainter.

Cole stood up, cradling the younger boy's small body against his chest. He could feel the little heart beat that still echoed in his body.

"I'll fix this," Cole said, bolting back to his camp, trying not to jostle the dying boy, "I'll fix this for the both of us. Just stay with me. Come on, Zane. Pleasepleaseplease please...please. "

Cole begged the small boy leaving a trail of tears back to his camp as he tried to get the note left for him out of his in Zane's blood in a fancy cursive:

"Cry me a river, Cole. And when you're done, come back here and face me. Zaddic. "

Does he live or does he die? It's really up for interpretation. By the way, Zane has just turned 12 and Cole is 16. I hope you enjoyed this! I'm still on the fence about what ideas for stories I want to write next. I might put out some more one-shots of them like this and see what I think.