District Eight Hunger Games Novels & Stories

Before Roman could start the engine, Tyrn and the other man sped off in another SUV with Santino. The drive is suffocatingly tense. I keep my face turned toward the window, watching the buildings blur past. My body remains rigid, the sting of Santino's slap still burning across my ass. I don't have to look to know Blake keeps glancing at me every few seconds. My heart still hasn't settled after everything that just happened. We finally pull into an old industrial area marked ‘District 8.’ The cars stop in the shadows of a large warehouse, and everyone gets out quietly. Blake shoots me a look, and I step out after him.

I sat opposite him. " School was fine, just wasn't like Middesville. I just hope I don't get into any fights, although I know it's not happening... I kinda got into the bad side of the queen bees today." I answered. " Aww, you miss home?" I rolled my eyes. " Like crazy." " We all might seem fine here, but I bet we are all waiting for the slightest chance to run all the way Middesville to have barbeque nights as usual," Jace said.

HIGH SCHOOL REVENGE BY HEARTCODE CHAPTER 17: THE GAME 10:30 found the final year students of RPHS in the sports arena, Tiana had ceased to be amazed by what the school contained anymore. She knew that this school was full of surprises, like come on a detention suite, pools, a sport arena… she knew that the school was really a school for elites. It is a fucking miracle she got admitted, so wait…. the SUMPREME ONES did it. She doesn’t know how, but she doesn’t care.

"Miraculous." She sat opposite him. “We’re meeting Nika at 8, then heading to District Four.” “That’s the one with the school gym converted into a shelter?” “Yeah. They need storage boxes and ceiling fans. And a working megaphone.” Caelan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. I’ll check the audio stock.” They didn’t say much else—but the silence didn’t ache. It folded around them like a morning fog: present, dense, but beginning to lift.

Gideon swigged vodka straight from a glass bottle he’d raided from the hotel mini-bar, the burn in his throat grounding him. He kicked the balcony doors open. The New Orleans humidity clung to his skin like a wet shroud, thick with the stench of Saati Town—garbage, exhaust, and the copper tang of blood from a dozen street fights happening blocks away. Below, the Sopttyi District was a cesspool of tourists and bottom-feeders, all grinding against each other like rats in a cage.

“Eat.” I didn’t move, my eyes narrowing as I studied him. “Who are you?” He placed the tray on the small table by the bed and straightened. “Darius. Brother of Beta Henry.” He was trembling as he spoke. He probably saw what I did to Henry. “I don’t want his food,” I said, my voice low and soft. I didn't want to threaten him. Darius sighed, his expression unreadable. “You need to eat if you want to survive. Whatever fight you’re planning, you won’t win it starving.”

Every pulse of pain shoved them further apart. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. The same demand, every night since the calm broke. I pressed my thumbs into my eye sockets and breathed through my teeth. "Marcus." My beta appeared in the doorway. He'd been waiting. He always waited on these nights. "The tributes," I said. "Is there one who resembles her." He didn't ask who. "The girl from the eastern valley. Dark hair, similar build. Not exact." "Close enough. Bring her."

The Nightbane franchise was drowning in stadium debt, and the Blackthorne lineage was the only force that could keep the sports council from stripping our family name. Darius’s harsh features melted into a false, booming smile that made my stomach turn. “Have you eaten since you left the high ridge, Lyra? The kitchens can prepare the fresh elk-kill before you return to the arena offices.” This was the same male who hadn't spoken my name in eight winters unless it was to curse my mother’s bloodline. His warmth was nothing but an invitation to the slaughter.

He quietly turned his back to the ice, his shoulders hunched as he began the long, solitary walk down the dark hallway toward the locker rooms. I guided Danica into the Wolves' tunnel, the heavy double doors shutting out the screaming fans and sealing us into the quiet warmth of the facility. The battle for Game 8 was officially in the books, but the high-stakes gauntlet of the Tri-Varsity Decathlon was already waiting for us. How much longer could Caleb keep searching for a way to fight the reality of his replacement... when my mother”s official itinerary was already printing our names as the new leaders of the empire?

I fear it will completely go out before Katniss comes back. There is bread by the wall from the last batch Katniss brought four days ago, so I pick it up and start eating. Gracious Elysia, I feel miserable. The bread tastes like a collaboration of sand and mud in my mouth. I wonder if Olivia is doing okay. Last I heard of her Katniss had told me she won her first match in the Dance of the Dead and has just four more to go.