Against the Odds (A Crossmare Fanfiction)

District Tweleve

The air was crisp and cold, brushing gently against his cheeks as he stepped down the rugged dirt path to the District boundary. The occasional twig or pebble would crunch beneath his worn shoes, sounding incredibly loud in the villages silence. The only other sound he could hear at the moment was the soft creaking of signs being swayed in the wind. Plenty of houses here turned into pathetic little shops that barely earned a penny a day. All the villagers had to sell was coal. That or their own food rations.

Food in District Twelve was forever scarce. They were the bottom of the food chain, the Capital's lowest concern. Their rations consisted of rice, bread and water. That was it. Some people would hunt for rats or creatures that scurried around or flew over. But others would go to further lengths. And Cross was one of those people.

His walk sped up to a jog as he caught sight of the fence boundary looming up, the scratched warning signs of High Voltage and Do not Cross glinting in the ever growing light. Cross ignored them, easily slipping through the gaps in the wire. The fence voltage was never actually on. Why waste money on such a pathetic district? The signs were just there to scare them.

He made a run for the trees in the distance, not wanting to be spotted running across the overgrown fields that lay just outside their crippled District.

Once he was under the cool shade of the trees he slowed down, loving the sound of the birds and wild creatures chattering away in their own little languages. He wandered over to a fallen tree, humming softly under his breath as he crouched down by it and pulled out a leather bag.

He glanced about before sitting down on one of the tree's branches, the rope holding the bag together loosening up.

Inside five sharp knives glinted in the dappled light that managed to creep through the leaves. Four of them had been bought from the market in exchange for animals he killed and sold. His favourite one had been given to him by his father on his fourteenth birthday. It was sharp and smooth, the blade expertly curved so that it was streamlined when being thrown though the air. A bit of an odd present to give to a child, a knife. But his father knew about Cross' hunting desires and wishes to help the family in any way he could, so he'd given it to him. Much to his mum's disapproval.

He sighed, tracing his finger down the blade of one of the knives. His dad had died a year ago. He'd gone down to mine coal like every other day, and never came back up. The mine had collapsed, trapping 300 workers and killing them all.

That had left almost all of the district widowed and fatherless. Ever since then his mum has been distant, silent. She never really talked any more, and barely did anything. She'd make a few meals, but that was it. The rest of the time she'd either sit in her bed or on a seat in the living room, staring into space with that glassy look in her eyes.

He'd given up on arguing with her. It just made Chara cry and her even worse.

"Yo Cross!"

The boy jolted, looking up in alarm to see a figure crunching through the dead leaves and twigs, a large grin on their face. "Epic!"

His best friend laughed, walking over and pulling himself up onto the fallen tree beside Cross. "How long did I keep you waiting? Not long I hope."

"Only about ten minutes."

"Oh, that's not too bad."

"Not as bad as last time."

"Oh shut up about that I overslept." He grumbled, pushing him gently.

"For a whole hour?" He laughed softly. "I thought you'd been caught and dragged away."

"Bruh shut up, I'm not magic like you." He grumbled, swinging his legs back and forth and watching Cross fasten his bag back up and sling it over his shoulders.

"Magic? I wish." He pushed himself off of the fallen tree, landing with a thump on the dry leaves and soil below. "Anyway c'mon, I wanna check if my snares have caught anything before I'm forced into my best clothes for the Reaping."

"Careful selling that stuff, okay? You know it's not technically legal." He said, jumping off by his side.

"Technically I don't care."

"Savage."

"Mhm." He sighed under his breath, his eyes wandering over the twigs and leaves for any signs of the snares he'd set down two days ago.

Upon seeing a small wriggling rabbit, he grinned and ran over. "Epic I've got a rabbit!"

His friend stood next to him and smirked, crouching down. "I'm assuming you want me to kill it then, hm bruh?"

Cross nodded in embarrassment, looking away. He'd never liked killing anything if he could help it. That's why Epic came along. He was his best friend and would do anything for Cross. And that included killing fluffy little rabbits, squirrels and birds.

A moment later Epic tapped his shoulder, holding out the now limp rabbit for Cross to put in his bag. "It was quick, I promise."

"Thanks..." He whispered, gently slipping it inside his leather bag. "Now let's be quick, we've probably got an hour maximum until the peacekeepers get here."

Epic nodded. "Yeah."

——————

"Hey, Epic?"

"Yeah?"

Cross glanced up at his friend from the grass, absentmindedly running his hands through the wild daisies that grew around them. "How many times is your name in the jar?"

"Forty-two."

He froze up a bit, looking at him in shock. The general rule was that as soon as you're twelve you had to put your name in the bowl once. When you're thirteen it's twice. Fourteen, three times etc until you're nineteen. Then you don't compete anymore. The Capitalists offered compensation if you volunteered to put your name in more than once, such as more food and small sums of money. Epic's family was dangerously poor at the moment, and he had to do everything he could to keep his mum and three brothers safe.

"Yeah, the odds aren't really looking in my favour, are they?" He laughed dryly, closing his eyes and leaning back a bit.

He picked one of the daisies, spinning it slowly between his index finger and thumb and staring at the pink tipped petals. "No..."

"But I'll be fine. I'm strong. And if I get picked, I'll win."

"Sure." Cross rolled his eyes, sighing.

"I'm serious Cross, I'd fight to the end." He glanced over at him.

"Of course you would, I know." He smiled weakly, holding out a hand for him. "Promise it wont be either of us?" He thought of Chara for a moment, remembering how he'd said the same thing to him earlier.

"I promise Cross, I promise."

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Heyo it's an Undertale Hunger Games book, shock horror.

I know most of you were expecting a sequel to A Mortal's Touch but Jdhzhsjsjxhsjsj I wasn't feeling really inspired with that so uh take this instead?

This will follow the Hunger Games plot line, but not completely. Different shit will happen, and the characters won't follow the same sort of story as the film or books. Just wanted to clear that up in case of confusion :3

Okay, hope you enjoy!

1,811 words

-Jess-