The Fallen- Hunger Games

The Fallen

Thread stood on the pedestal, his breath coming in short rasps. He missed his girl. He had her locket around his neck, a million silent promises that he would come home to her, that they would have a family together in the Victor's Village. Promises broken before they'd even been made. She had said the silver chain would keep him safe but it definitely hadn't done much good at the reaping. He was thinking of his home in District Eight, of her, when he ran straight into Marvel.

...

Eva considered jumping. She played and replayed the scene in her mind. The mines beneath her feet would explode, and she would be flung sky high, her arms and legs ripped from her body, blood splattering on the grass whilst the Careers stood by and laughed. Their only regret that they hadn't had the pleasure of tearing the life out of her themselves. She remembered the reaping, the square in Ten. The way her friends had shrunk away from her the second her name was called, their looks pitying yet full of relief. She had found it fascinating. The sound of the gong startled her, and she stumbled forward, straight onto the tip of Cato's outstretched sword.

...

Aurora didn't stand a chance. Her mother knew that, when she was the only one who came to say goodbye in the Justice Building in Three, barely a week earlier. She should have listened to Beetee, she knew that now. She should have turned and ran, the second the countdown ended, but what would be the point? So she had ran blindly towards the Cornucopia. If she had been just a second faster, she would have been fine, she thought dryly as she lay bleeding, her leg cut open by the girl from Four. She closed her eyes when she saw the boy from Five advance on her, and she hardly felt the sickle slicing through her forehead.

...

Aria wondered what would happen if she just closed her eyes. She wondered if she would wake up in her bed in Six. She wondered if she would wake up at all. She didn't wait to find out. She grabbed up the yellow sleeping bag, and for thirty more glorious seconds, she thought she was going to get away. But then she spotted Glimmer, and spun around to fight her. It's quite obvious that Glimmer won. I always hated yellow... Aria thought.

...

Arley just wanted the backpack. He caught the girl from Twelve just beyond the ring of pedestals. He fought her for it, and he thought he was winning. And then the knife came out of nowhere, and he barely had time to turn before he fell forward, the look of relief in Twelve's eyes short lived as another knife buried itself into his backpack.

...

Oaks was expecting his death. He had spent hours wondering which tribute would kill him. He wondered if it would be the strong boy from Two, with his sword. Perhaps it would be the beautiful tribute from One, with her arrow buried in his throat. Maybe the small but no doubt deadly girl from Two would strike gold when her knife found his heart. The boy from One could catch his lungs with one of his spears. Or even the girl from Twelve would become his murderer- the Gamemakers didn't give her an 11 for nothing. Being from Seven he could wield an axe, but fat lot of good that would do him when he didn't have a head. He didn't see the big, dark boy from Eleven coming up behind him, and as he lay, bleeding out, he wished that Thresh could at least have killed him quickly.

...

Annabella missed her sister. She wondered what had happened to her district partner, Arley, but really it didn't matter. Only one of them could win. She said she'd get home. Her sister had been to see her in the Justice Building in Nine, and her words echoed in Anna's ears as the gong sounded. Please come home, Anna. Please. I need you. You have to win. You have to win. You have to win... Even as her fellow tributes fell around her, she ran, grabbing the rucksack and turning to flee. Clove's malicious laughter filled her ears as a knife caught the side of her skull. She was dead before she hit the ground.