Blight Hunger Games Novels & Stories

I am alone. *** The blizzard hits an hour later. The wind screams through the narrow stone slits of the hall, a banshee wail that brings the scent of ice and death. I am on my knees before the pit. My hands are already blistering from the primitive task of grinding grain and butchering the heavy, frozen meat provided for the feast. The "city girl" in me wants to scream, to cry at the blood under my fingernails and the way the smoke stings my eyes.

As his lips ruled my neck, my body started to burn and my strength began to waver. Am I thinking correctly? Are they really true? Why do I have to? "You're sweet..." My eyes were getting blurry. I can no longer see his face. I tried to slap him, but the last thing I saw was his lips with traces of my blood. "You're a vampire..."

Zach reassured them, even though it is going to be hell. "I'm not going to lie but you guys are already dead." Blaze stated, Zach groaned and Klay chuckled. "Thanks for the pep talk, now I know who you are." Mia glared at him. "Babygirl, you gonna love it, happy?" He mocked. She rolled her eyes and get back on eating her pancakes. —————————————————— "Fuck Klay and Blaze." She groaned and inhaled the fresh air. "You can't say that to your mate." Lydia said breathlessly as she crouched down.

The blade’s edge bit colder than the wind gnawing through my coat, colder than the void where Lira’s laugh used to live. Rot. It hit me first as a stench. My knuckles wept flesh, black veins spidering up my arms like cracks in a shattered window. Vorath writhed inside me, a thousand teeth grinding my bones to dust. I hadn’t eaten in days. Didn’t need to. The parasite feasted well. “You’re dying.”

"Be ready, Lira. I have a feeling your purpose is about to find you." The first sign of trouble came from the south. A messenger arrived at the pack house, ragged and bleeding, his fur matted with mud and something darker. He collapsed at the border, gasping for breath. "Please," he gasped. "The Blight. It's spreading." Lira reached him first, her silver-gold light flowing into him, healing the worst of his wounds. "What Blight?" "Grey death. It started in the southern marshes. Plants wither. Water turns foul. And wolves... wolves lose themselves. Their eyes go blank. They attack anything that moves."

“Heh. Bet he won’t ever hurt his pride.” Without looking back, Byul made his way on the street. The dirt road was filled with the evidence of massacre. There were lots of corpse lying on the ground and the rotten stench could be smelled even from a mile away. Ah this is it. The outbreak of the apocalypse. Byul lifted his head and inspected the place. Judging by the sight, this was a normal Zombie thriller movie. No mutation, no abilities, just pure hug-loving zombies. Although it was only his suspicion, Byul still felt that everything doesn’t add up.

With that, he disappeared into the darkness, the light from his lantern gradually fading away. I continued to eat once he left. A faint bitterness lingered on my tongue, but I dismissed it as the taste of the old bread. As I finished the last morsel, a sudden, searing pain shot through my stomach. Was it because I hadn't eaten in a while? A metallic taste filled my mouth, and my vision blurred. I tried to stand, but my legs buckled, sending me crashing to the cold floor. A cold dread seeped into my bones, a horrifying realization that bloomed dawned on me. The food. It wasn't just old. It was…

The black thorns weren’t growing like normal plants. They slithered across the white sand, more like snakes, twisting themselves around the villagers’ ankles as they screamed. Every time a thorn touched someone’s skin, that golden glow faded away, leaving just smoky gray behind. “My head!” the Auditor yelled, dropping to his knees and clutching his recipe book. “I can’t remember the smell of bread! Only the hunger! Only those starving years!”

The cool air brushed against her face as she closed her eyes, steadying her breath. She closed her eyes as she tried to recall everything… her mother’s voice, soft but firm, echoing in her mind. “Dark spells feed on fear, pain, and flesh,” her mother once told her during one of their quiet lessons by the fire. “When such curses are unleashed, they do not just wound the body, they spread like hunger, biting through one soul to the next.” Althea gripped the window frame tighter. The faint whispers of her memory brought shivers down her spine. She remembered something about flesh-eating blight, about wounds that could never heal on their own. Her heart pounded. ‘Could this be the same?’

It might not be enough to kill him, but it would be more than capable of inflicting pain on him. “But as I’ve said, it doesn’t matter anymore. This world shall know total annihilation, and you’ll be the sole witness of what’s to come.” Then there was a rumbling sound, as though giants were roaming among the land, pounding their thick feet, followed by a long streak of purple light. A bitter smile curved her lips. A thousand spears quite the same as the one that struck Blame appeared from Dark’s swirling shadow. Her breathing was starting to be unstable, her body becoming numb as the wind became colder.