Chapter 10:

Fire, Part Two

Tyler, District Ten

I take my mask off with terrible timing.

"Whoa, dude! What's going on?" I ask the boy from Three. He's closed his eyes, and his blonde hair falls down into his face. Suddenly, fire shoots from his hands, aimed towards Josh and me. It hits us full on, the flames tearing at our flesh. I scream in pain and crumple on the ground.

I am on fire.

"Oh, God! What did I do?" Three yells frantically, but I can barely hear him. The fire hit me straight on, protecting Josh a bit from the flame. I am in the fetal position on the dead black ground. Josh steps over me and rushes at the boy. I guess our momentary alliance is taking place. I know I shouldn't ally with him, but we don't know what will happen. Maybe we are the final three.

Maybe there are others somewhere else. Maybe we'll find them. Right now, though, I can't afford to think like this. I must go into survival mode.

There is no talking. They are engaged in battle right now. I know I should roll around to kill the hopping sparks, but I can't move right now. I hear somebody grunt, and a large thud. I want to see who it is, I hope it's Josh. Maybe Three will want to finish me off too.

But why the sudden character change? He seemed like a sincerely good guy, in training and in the interview. But people bluff all of the time. And he might just be an incredible actor. Or maybe grief struck him: after all, his twin sister did die, and they seemed pretty close. I could see his inspiration and reasoning in that case, but the quickness in which he changed is alarming.

"Dude, are you okay?" Three asks me.

Shit, it's him.

Despite the extreme pain, I sit up and scoot back on my ass in terror. He just steps closer to me, and I want to move away, to run away, but I know I would fall and die.

But I can use my fire now! I showed him how to do it. Why? I feel so stupid right now. Actually, stupid cannot even begin to describe how I feel right now. I caused an innocent boy's death. If I manage to not die right now, I know karma will catch up with me someday. My grandparents always taught me 'what goes around comes around.' And in this case, I'm pretty sure the karma's so extreme that it will turn into the 'eye for an eye' logic that they also taught me about. Damn.

"Stop, Tyler!" he yells at me. I keep scooting back. "He's not dead!" I stop scooting back.

"What?"

"The boy, he's not dead! His cannon never went off!" the boy yells in excitement. I can tell he's devastated at what he's done, but feels better because he hasn't fully done it.

So I won't burn in hell, then. Good to know.

But right now, I am burning on Earth, and I know I am dying. So I beg the near-murderer for help.

Josh, District Six

I feel myself slipping into unconsciousness after I fall to the ground. I want to tell Tyler not to worry, that the boy tried to help me, but I can't talk or move right now. My thoughts are like syrup: slow and distorted. I know I fell from my face. There was starting to be blood, and some other yellowish liquid, and then my head started spinning, and then I found myself on the ground, wishing I was dead.

Correction: wishing I am dead. I am still in that pain, although, luckily, it is slowly evaporating. And clearing. And with it, so are my thoughts. My mind is not here in the Hunger Games. It's in Hell. Creatures swarm me and I scream. They are hideous creatures, ones with long tentacles and slimy skin made of blood. Some are floating, their eyes rolled up into their heads, and others slither towards my feet. I panic, and try desperately to kick them off, but the more I kick off, the more there are.

Then a terrible beast similar to a human approaches me. It is super tall, towering over my puny 5'7". The thing has oozing skin made of what looks like muscles and blood, similar the tentacle one.

I scream and try to back away, but I am frozen under the haunting glares from these things around me. Am I alive? Am I in hell? What's going on? What are the creatures before me?

"I'm here to help you," the twisted blood-muscle man says. His voice is cold and reverberates through my frightened bones. "Wouldn't you want to join us, Josh? You don't need them! They tried to kill you."

I guess he's right, but what does joining them mean for me? What would I become? Would I look like them? Do I already look like one of them? I feel like I am part. I try to talk, to move, but my body is on fire again, and the red-dark world around me wavers and fades to reality.

Three stands over me, a tiny tear dripping down his blushed cheek. "Are you okay?"

I want to scream at him: "I have been burnt to a damned crisp, man! What the hell do you think the answer is?" But my face is in too much pain to say so much. Instead I just mumble something out. I try to groan, to show my pain, but I don't know how he interprets it. I guess the right way, because he pulls my tight grey shirt off and screams when he sees the damage. It's not nearly as bad as my face, which is a toxic acid burn, but this one is most likely third-degree, so it's bad.

"What do I do?" he screams, panicky. I want to tell him to shut up, but can't.

Why doesn't he just kill us now? He would probably be the winner, right here, right now. But he seems like such a nice guy, such a pussy, so I know he would not do that. Although he did have a major character change when he tried to kill us. Maybe he's just bipolar.

He is bent down over me, when his blue eyes light up. I try to twist around to see what it is, but I end up kind of writhing around like a pathetic worm, and can't see anything.

"Who's it for?" Three asks. What is it? "I think it's addressed to Tyler…"

He walks over behind me and hands something to Tyler (I think: I have no clue what he actually does). With a bit of effort, I push myself enough so that I can flop over to face Tyler. He holds a tiny white parachute in his charred black hand. I don't think he can even open it. Three takes it, and opens it for him, without taking anything. I guess he's in 'Nice Guy' mode right now. We'll see where that goes.

"'Tyler- Use it right. Don't waste it, don't be stupid,'" Three reads from a small slip of paper. "I think- I think it's burn cream."

"Give it- give it to me!" Tyler shouts. He almost jumps up, but winces a bit, and returns to the ground.

"Carb by hag snome?" I slur out. He looks at me in confusion, then realization dawns on him. Suddenly, my vision blurs and blacks around the edges. I get off of the elbow I was leaning on, and lay straight down.

"Sorry, man, I need it," Tyler says as the real world ripples and returns to the Hell from earlier.

A/N: Sorry, you guys. I have been REALLY, REALLY sick lately- like, fall-asleep-at seven-and-not-get-up-until-much-too-late sick. Like, can't-even-get-up-for-computer sick. But I'm a TINY bit better, so yay! I apologize for the supposed update-a-day thing. Was it really realistic? Uh, no. Sorry, again.

Please, keep voting. I want to know which of these three should die! I'll tell you who has how many from this division, so you know to vote for your favorite if they're in danger.

Tyler- 13

Chase- 4

Joshua- 8

Chase begs ya'll for votes, but that's bribery, so I'm thinking he's going to be next… MUHAHAHA! Sorry, Chase.

Okay, getting tired, going to bed.

Also, by the way, I'm going to Oregon until Christmas Eve, with no computer, so there will be no update before Christmas. Sorry.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, or any other wintery holiday you celebrate!

Bye, love you all, and will have death poll on next chapter!