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Wren didn't know what to expect when she sat down to watch the announcements of the 75th hunger games. It was a quarter quell, which meant that the games would have a change to them. maybe double the tributes again, just females, just males, or other alterations.
When she started watching the screen which had snow displayed across it, his white beard trimmed to be perfectly clean, his beady eyes staring into the crowd, she glared. He began to speak. She clenched her fists together as she heard his voice, her eyes not moving from the screen.
"Ladies and gentlemen," His raspy voice echoed through the television. "This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games." Wren's eyes stayed tightly fixated on his face.
"It was written in the charts of the games, that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation," He said into the microphone. "The memory of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol." Wren felt chills run down her spine and her stomach twist in knots.
Snow paused for a moment. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance." Her grip tightened against the arm rest on her chair, knuckles turning a ghostly shade of white.
"And now on this the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, We celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell. As a reminder that even the strongest, cannot overcome the power of the Capitol." Wren anticipates what he's going to reveal about the Quarter Quell, she doesn't even want to think about what evil thing he was going to force upon the innocent people of her the districts.
He pauses again and Wren can't help but suck in a breath when he glances hard into the crowd. "On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell games," He starts, Wren closes her eyes for a brief moment, preparing herself for what he was going to say next. She twiddled her thumbs in her lap, waiting for him to speak again.
"The male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district." Wren let out a bloodcurdling scream, throwing the closet thing near her at the hologram with Snow's face on it. The small lamp crashed through his head, landing on the wall behind the tv.
"Victors will present themselves on Reaping day regardless of age-" Snow lists, his eyes cold as ice "state of health, or situation" Wren grips onto the arm rest tightly for a minute, taking in her situation, and then she falls apart.
━━━━ AUTHOR'S NOTE ━━━━ ཻུ۪۪༄☆‧₊. °
i'm sorry for this shitty first chapter :,( but thank you so so so so much for reading. i also haven't done a second proofread as well so sorry if there are any mistakes. xx
