Hunger Games Fanfiction

Hunger Games Fanfiction
Chapter 1
These are the only two rules that I know, as I open my eyes, finding myself on top of a silver-colored platform. The first thing I notice is a blazing light. It’s so bright out that it takes at least ten seconds to adjust to. One; survive. Two; kill the others.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome and let the 100th Hunger Games begin!" A voice that seems that is somewhat familiar to me booms out.
Sixty seconds, I automatically think, sixty seconds to take everything in. All the tributes, I notice, are spaced evenly around a large golden horn, its tail curled at the edge. The gaping mouth of the golden horn contains items holding what will give us life in this arena: food, medicine, garments, and water containers. I see weapons scattered around—swords, maces, bows and arrows, spears. The lesser the value of the supplies, the farther it is away from the golden horn, and the closer towards the tribute’s platforms.
Forty seconds.
My eyes swoop around, forgetting the other tributes. I see a huge lake a little off in the distance. It wouldn’t be the best place to hide out in, and it was certainly too close. Straight across from me looks like a grassy meadow. No trees. I can't go there either. Behind me appears to be sparse piney woods. This is where I have to go. And pray if I can find water.
Twenty seconds.
My eyes find the golden horn again, and my eyes land on a belt filled with different types of powders. It’s mine. I just know, that it was made for me. A finely crafted dagger also lies on top of it, but it was too far away for me to make out the details on it.
Should I run for it or not, and risk my life for it?
Ten seconds.
I’ll grab the black bag as I run for the powders and the dagger. I’m not the fastest runner, but with my long lean legs, I have an advantage towards the smaller tributes. The closest tribute to me is a tall blonde boy. Our eyes lock and I can see the hard determination in him. He wants to win this just as badly as anyone. There's more on the line for him than just living. I can see that, looking at him now. But there's something else in his eyes too, a sort of mocking amusement. His eyes seem to speak: You'll be dead in the first three days of the Games.
The gong rings out.

Chapter 2
As soon as the gong rings out, it's mad chaos. My legs start to move but my brain keeps me where I am so I end up doing a kind of awkward side-to-side jog. A part of me wills me to run but I just can't leave the place with the golden horn empty handed. I sprint forward and scoop up the closest thing to me—a satchel of some sorts. I was hoping to grab the black bag, but the satchel will do, as I notice that someone has already managed to take it. I have to jump and jolt in all directions to avoid being hit by battleaxes and spears that the other kids are using. Thankfully no one is really paying attention to me but rather engaging in the battle.
I sling the satchel over my shoulder, but quickly enough I realize that running with a satchel is a difficult task as I advance closer to the golden horn. I was proven wrong that no one wants a bunch of powders that are placed in a black belt, in little wooden cylinders, as soon as I reach for it, a milky-white hand grabs it. Without even thinking, I snatch it back, and find the grip surprisingly loose. I glance at the face, and shocked, all I can do is gape for a second or two at the battleaxe buried deep in the beautiful brunette’s head. I turn around to run towards the woods, and in the corner of my eye I see the tall blonde empty-handed, facing the direction where the brunette’s body lied with the battleaxe impaled in her head.
I run as fast as my legs can carry me, with the satchel constantly bumping onto my upper thigh, which quite was starting to irritate me to no end. I stop for a few minutes, buckling the black belt filled with the powders (which also had labels of the names of them) onto my waist. It fit quite snugly, and I’m comforted by the fact that the belt won’t droop onto my thighs if there was an emergency for me to run. I slip the dagger into a blank pocket in the belt, relieved that I’ll be able to snatch it up whenever I want to.
For the next hour or so, I alternate between jogging and walking, putting as much distance between me and where the golden horn was located as I can. As I move through the woods, I examine the trees. They're tall, full of thick branches and bushy leaves. It gives just enough cover, and I think I'll be able to climb them and hide out up there at night. The outfit that I currently am wearing is a comfortable and loose fabric so I'll be able to maneuver in just about anything. I carry the silver knife in my hand, which had tracings of a dragon on one side of the metal, jumping at any sound I hear. Usually it's only small animals. I note this as a small victory because it means I have a food source. If only I could find some water, I was getting thirsty. It was also quite humid today.
I keep moving.
I just wish the sun would set already. Not because I looking forward to nighttime—in fact the idea frightened me—but typically a cannon is fired when a tribute is killed. From what I can muster to remember, this is the opening day and many tributes are killed during the first hour or two, the people who control these games withhold the cannons until later.
My ears are extra sensitive, waiting for the sound of the cannons. It isn't until late afternoon do I finally hear them. I had just stopped for a rest and count the shots in my head as they go off: One…two…three…on and on until they reach seven. Only seven died at the golden horn. Judging from the twenty-something kids that there were, that leaves about…perhaps… eighteen…or sixteen, luckily?
The brown satchel bumps onto my upper thigh as I take a step forward, and I cannot help but groan in the midst of my annoyance. Actually, I should take a look on what is inside now, since I was cloaked among bushes as tall as me. I sit down, and take note that there wasn’t any mud nearby, which is a great clue to know if there is a source of water nearby. I flip open the flap and carefully pull out the items inside: There is a small black reflective thing---a tablet with a set of ear buds plugged into it, a thin black sleeping roll, a small bottle of iodine, a 16 ounce bottle filled with liquid---water, strips of some kind of dried meat jerk, matches, and a bottle no bigger than my hand which seems to contain some type of minor medicine, and a single bar of soap. It’s better than I expected, as I thought there would be about two items in the small satchel, but I’m pleasantly surprised with all these useful items.
Now I have food, matches to start a fire, something to sleep on, and supplies to keep me from gaining a disease. I've been on the run all day and it's been warm. I take the black bottle filled with water and twist the cap open. The water is refreshingly cool on my tongue. I don't drink much but it's enough to moisten my throat. I place everything back as organized as I can into the satchel, deciding to figure out what’s with the black tablet later.
Twilight is about to fall and it's just another reminder I need to make camp. I'm starving too, from walking and running practically all day. I decide once I find somewhere to sleep, I'll allow myself to eat a small piece of the jerky. I keep hearing birds chirping above and that means they'll have nests somewhere around. I just need to follow their chirping in the morning.
I continue down the slope that leads into a valley. I hope it rises soon because I don't like feeling trapped in a low place. Walking downhill gives me an odd urge to start sprinting. I can hear a few sounds of the night creatures that have come out. I think I’ve encountered plenty of huge animals back at home but I'm still a little leery. Who knows what kind of predators they have here?
The moon gives me a little assurance as I find a sturdy tree to make camp. At least I’m able to see the outlines of the trees I’m looking at, or else I’ll just be wandering in the pitch-black darkness, walking into who knows where.
The tributes that survived the bloodbath at the golden horn, will have stalked up on food, supplies, weapons, water, you name it. I have a feeling the majority of the goods went to the strongest looking tributes, such as the tall blonde that quite looks like a golden retriever who has gone evil. I decide to name him Goldy. My only shot is to stay hidden enough from them that they take out everyone else and then turn on each other before finding me.
I climb up the tree, maneuvering through the thick branches. I slip once but gain my footing before toppling down. I find a fork between two branches, and it's wide enough that I'll be able to set out my roll and make a bed. The branches are high enough on either side so I shouldn't fall to the ground if I roll in my sleep. I nestle into my new bed, surprised by how comfortable it is. Before I tuck my satchel into the bedroll, I take out the black tablet, and click a button uncertainly, hoping it wouldn’t blare out anything, even with the ear buds plugged in. The screen brightens, showing a video, and a word that is written onto it saying the word, “play”. I quickly tap the word, as I tuck in the ear buds into my ears.
“Hello, Natasha Deravole, and I see that you have survived the first part of the Games. You are from District 3, the technology district. I assume you are wondering why there was a tablet set in your satchel? Well firstly, to make things clear, this is the fourth Quarter Quell, and we as the Gamemakers decided that this year we should inject everyone in the Games with a type of fluid that makes you forget everything that has happened before the Games. We decided that not only are you fighting for your district, but for your memories. Additionally, the fluid that we injected into you helps us monitor what memories can filter through and which can’t, since we only allow what you know about the Games, and your skill sets in fighting or the strategy you are using. There wasn’t a lot of time to test this, therefore it may take a while for you to remember the positive outlooks for you in the Games. Good luck,” The dark-skinned woman with flashing tattoos on her cheeks informs me. The tablet darkened immediately, showing this was the only video and message I had for the time being.
I have a intuitive feeling that this isn’t the only part of the twist to this games, and that I might die very soon if I don’t figure it out, as my eyes shut into a dreamless sleep, for all the events that had occurred overwhelmed me.
After all, I’m just a pawn in these games, with no memories to hold onto.

Okay.
Me= /dead.
ASDFGHJKL; WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ARE YOU SO PERFECT

NO WHY ARE YOU PERFECT
Any critique? X3

Um. None so far.
Except you should add someone named Clint (GET IT GET IT LIKE TASHA AND CLINT)
And you should add me \owo/

Okay I will add on someone named Clint (I still didn't name the Goldy/blonde guy ;3) <3
Plus you <3

<3
Name me Bee :D
FROM DISTRICT FOUR PLEASSSSEEEEEE

Chapter 2: Part 2
Snap! My eyes snap open in a flash. I have that uncomfortable feeling that you get when you've been asleep and wake suddenly. Still slightly a bit dazed, I peer from my branches toward the source of the sound. I don't see anything. Maybe I imagined the snapping sound. But I can hear something else. Something like…ruffling leaves. And yet there's hardly any breeze. Snap! Okay, now I'm sure I didn't imagine it that time. Fully awake, I sit up as quietly as I can. My eyes scan the darkness, searching for any movement. I still see nothing but—

There! About thirty feet away I can make out a shadowy figure. Crap. They're coming in this direction. I slink back into my bedroll. On the ground where I have my footing, I'm confident that I might be a threat. Up here, forty or so feet off the ground, not so much. If any type of the strong tributes down there and they see me, I'm in big trouble. All they have to do is chop off the tree or something.

I squint as the shadowy figure comes near me. Whoever it is, he or she is moving silently aside from the two snaps from the twigs. They're really close now—I can make out the height, which looks too short to be any of the boys I've seen so far. I duck down just as they pass under me, managing to catch the back of her short hair. It's a girl. It has to be, by the way she looks back up, where I was, as I manage to glimpse at girlish features. She moves quickly and I'm amazed by how stealthy she is. She's alone too, and if I had a bow and arrow I could maybe shoot her from here. Oh well.

The girl is is out of my sight in seconds and this relaxes me somewhat. I'm glad it wasn't Goldy or some other tribute that looked like him. Although, the stealthy girl, seems like the type of girl who could climb this tree easily though, probably fight one footed on a branch to boot. Maybe I got lucky.

A few hours later tells me I'm not lucky at all. I awake once more to the sound of footsteps. The sky is lightening so dawn must be approaching. These people don't bother covering up their footsteps or their voices.

"Why are we following this girl again?" The voice is drawn out and a bit monotone—a girl's voice, but clearly uninterested in the topic at hand.

"Because she could be an asset, Sam." Says a girl, snootily. Oh god! It's a pack of tributes, and I start to hyperventilate. And apparently Sam. "And if she won't join us, we'll eliminate her."

"She doesn't stand a chance." This tone is deep and masculine.

"What about your brother?" asks a bubbly and slightly frenzied voice. Great. So far they have four in their group.

The leader of the pack, who spoke first, stops just several feet below me. I can feel my heart racing. Damn it! The sun will be up any minute and by then the trees won't conceal me. Maybe one on one with the stealthy girl I stood a chance if I got lucky but against four or five ? No. The blonde-haired beauty places her hands behind her back, clearly calculating.

"My dearest brother has made his choice," she says coldly. "I knew all along he'd go off on his own and that's all as well. If he wants to assume the role as a traitor he will be treated and hunted down as such."

She strides off, leaving her army to follow behind. I watch them go and saw that there was another girl, who has number three branded onto the back of her outfit. She trails behind the bubbly-sounding girl, looking a little scared and lost. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. There's another male, the one from Five I think. So that's six.

"Man, I thought they'd never leave."

My head whips around so fast I nearly break my neck and I almost cry out in alarm. My eyes land on a pair of deep gray ones. It's a girl. She has dark black hair, which is now a side braid. Her tanned face had a few scratches, but other than that she seemed alright. Sitting in the air just a few feet above me. She holds up his hands, eyes wide and concerned.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Bee, District 4."

"What do you think you're doing?" I hiss, immediately maneuvering myself in a semi-fighting stance. Or well, as much of a stance as I can in this damn tree. How did I not see her? Or hear her?

"I saw you and I thought…" she blushes from embarrassment and rubs her head. "I thought we could work together. For now. If you want…that is."

"Look, Bee—"

"I won't be any trouble," she says quickly. There are dark circles under her eyes and I wonder if she got any sleep last night. "I can even be a lookout from above. I don't eat much so you don't have to share your food. I'm an okay fighter but I know how to live off next to nothing. Please." I can now see the desperation in her eyes and hear it through her voice. "I can be useful. I promise I won't let you down."

Part of me wants to scream at this kid. I don't need someone slowing me down. I know I should be suspicious of this type of behavior but I can read it on her face: she's scared. She wants someone to ally with. She doesn't want to be alone and she won't betray me. There's something honest in her face, something I recognize but I don't know from where.

"Promises mean nothing in these Games," I say. "How can I trust that you won't stab me in the back the moment I turn around?"

"You have my word," she says seriously. "I know that probably means nothing to you but I'm truly a honest person. And when I make a vow I stick to it." Her face, always so kind and happy, hardens in a look I've never seen. "The people who make this game can take away our homes, food, supplies, money, and memories but they can't take away our beliefs and personality."

I stare at her, thinking. I'm skeptical, clearly trying to figure out what motive this kid really had. But on the other hand I see devotion. I see trust and respect—respect for me, for whatever reason. But mostly, I see hope.

Trust your instincts.

"Okay," I say with a sigh. "We can stick together. For now at least."

Relief washes over Bee's features. "Thank you. I won't slow you down or get in the way. But...can I get your name, please?"

"Good because I'll just kill you if you do. Also, my name's Natasha."

She laughs awkwardly and I smile a little, not sure if I'm kidding or not. After a moment I say, "So you're planning to win this game?"

"I don't know," She says quietly.

Side Note
I do not own any part of The Hunger Games!
Plus, if I get alas more comments or at least anything, I will try and update faster. : )
Thanks Sam!!!!

ASDFGHJKL; CAN I HUG YOU AND LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER
#ACTUAL BEST PERSON IN THE WORLD

Sure!!! Thanks! Any critique? 8 D

I am not trying to be rude but just thinking logically and about ther stories. In Mockingjay it says there is no more hunger games. But forget that! You are an amazing writer!!!!! :) I always try to write stories but can never stick with it! Have you read Matched? I kind of associates with the whole tablet idea. Anyways, WRITE MORE! I am so into it I could not stop reading it! Amazing!

NESSSAAAAAAA
WRITE MOOOOOORE

I slide out of my sleeping bag, straddling a thick trunk, as I take out the satchel, and then start rolling up the sleeping bag which was as only as big as my palm, as I finished. I placed it into the satchel, and I climb down the tree.
"Hey, do you have anything useful?" I ask, my tone curious.
"Um. Just a bow, and some arrows. I don't know how to shoot, but it was the only thing I was able to grab, and I had to get out of there fast," She tells me. Huh. I really didn't notice the bow and arrows, and I felt myself grow puzzled, I typically notice things.
"I hid it in the tree, I didn't want to scare you if you saw a weapon on me," She explains, as she saw the expression on my face.
"You don't even have a basic idea on how to shoot it?" I ask, furrowing my brow. Well, a weapon always gives a sense of security, therefore maybe that's why she lugs it around.
"No," She mumbles, as I glance at her.
"Do you know how to use a dagger?" I ask, perhaps, we could trade weapons.
"Yeah, everyone knows how to use daggers," She says, in a 'no duh' type of tone.
"We can trade," I say excitedly, fishing the dagger out of my belt, the smooth handle wishing for me to clutch onto it forever.

This is only a preview, and I may revise it, if I want. I am planning to write a long chapter to make up for how long I was inactive with this story, due to the fact I'm in Europe still.

Tis' an epic tale.

Thank you very much. :)

OMG!!! This is fantastic!!!You're like, awesome!!! :face: