The Hunger Games: Multi-Verse

Day 11

Author's Note: The feast is going to be written in third person omniscient, which means that I can describe the thoughts, feelings, and emotions of all the characters. This is because of how intense it's going to be!

Happy reading!! :)

Clove Kentwell arrived to the Cornucopia at dawn and positioned herself behind a thick tree right on the edge of the field. She was facing the east side of the Cornucopia and could barely see in the mouth. The sun slowly, agonizingly rose over the horizon and Clove grew more and more eager and anxious. She just wanted to get the feast over with.

She knew she'd have to make a break for her knives quickly -- she wanted to be the first competitor at the feast. There was no way of knowing what the other tributes would do if they beat her to the weapons. Also, Clove wanted to make sure she was the only one who picked up her knives. So she waited impatiently as the sun neared the middle of the sky.

The other tributes arrived around the Cornucopia. Everyone was eager for a weapon. Gale wasn't surprised the feast was going on, especially because no one had a weapon. Hawkeye's bow had been snapped in half during the tangle with the orange creature, and that left them weaponless. That was what the Games were about -- gory violence between the tributes. How could the audience get their fill of gore if there were no gore-inducing weapons?

Gale, Clint, and Peter Parker camped out at the south end of the field, facing the mouth of the Cornucopia. Hawkeye and Gale were both eager to get their hands on the bow, and Peter just wanted his web shooters. His webs weren't all that accurate without them, and he knew if he wanted a shot at winning, using his webs would be crucial.

King Killmonger and Kylo Ren both individually hid themselves at random places at the edge of the field as well. They were both vying for a chance to become lethal once more.

Noon finally hit. The ground before the mouth of the Cornucopia opened up, and a wide, metallic table slowly rose from its opening.

Clove's heart began beating adrenaline through her body. Internally she was torn between not wanting to run out there and knowing that she had to if she wanted to win. If all tributes were weaponless, whoever got to that table first was going to have the best shot of winning.

Clove forced herself to sprint from the woods towards the table. She powered herself forward as fast as she could. Her breaths came out in quick hyperventilations -- she was so anxious to get her knives and get out of there.

Clint Barton watched as the girl emerged quickly from the woods and dashed towards the table. He watched as, on the opposite side of the field, the large and powerful Erik Killmonger also sprinted out from behind the trees. Clove was closer to the table at the moment, but Killmonger was much faster -- especially with the powers of the Black Panther heart-shaped herb, which he had consumed unbeknownst to the other tributes.

Clint watched as Killmonger reached the table first and got his hands on what looked to be the silver necklace. The girl froze in her steps, fifteen feet from the table. Killmonger slowly lowered the necklace over his head and let it settle onto his chest. Then a black armor began spreading around his body, encapsulating the large man until he was wearing the suit of the Black Panther.

The girl had resumed her sprint to the table and reached the knives just as the armor finished encasing Killmonger. She made to dash away, but Killmonger turned on her. Clove threw a knife with deadly accuracy over her shoulder. The knife hit Killmonger straight in the chest and should've pierced him, but instead lamely fell to the ground after clinging against his chest. Killmonger was unaffected.

Clove sprinted towards the forest, and Killmonger quickly began to chase after her. Clint then realized it was his time. He leapt from his kneeling position between Peter and Gale and began running towards the table. "Wait!" He heard Peter call behind him, but Clint ignored the kid. It was now or never.