Fallen Comrade Table Novels & Stories

“Now you’ve fallen—you’ve lost everything you were meant to be—just because of me!” He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his gaze full of love and quiet certainty. “Haven’t I fallen hard enough? Long before I lost my wings… I had already fallen completely for you. And that fall was far deeper, far more real, and far more permanent than anything else I could ever experience.”

Jasmine went flying into the basement falling down the stairs from the drawback force. Gabriel could sense she was in trouble and bit through the pain of lifting himself up. It was as if The Almighty himself was giving him strength because the Guild member holding him down looked worried as to how he was able to move him. A blast came from the corridor blasting through the walls as if a bomb exploded. The drawback knocked the Guild off of Gabriel then, causing him to worry for Jasmine.

Ch-83 Before Orion could do something, he fell unconscious on his bed. People who came to ask his attention saw he was ‘sleeping’ and left. In Abigail’s chambers…. The woman who wore a red cloak and adorned the skeleton throne in the Witch Coven appeared out of thin air.

There, illuminated by the moonlight, were the faces of the fallen tributes, their images projected like ghostly apparitions. Each tribute's face appeared in turn, a reminder of the deadly nature of the game we were trapped in. Some faces were familiar from our brief encounters at the Cornucopia, while others were strangers whose stories we would never know. The anthem played on, a mournful melody that hung heavy in the night air. It was a grim reminder of the price of failure in the Hunger Games. As the last face faded from the sky, we remained silent, each lost in our thoughts. The fallen tributes served as a stark reminder that only one victor would emerge from this brutal competition.

Little did I know that it was one of the wrong decisions that I made in my life. I had done so much for him. And yet, he still went ahead to betray me. I watched him and I wasn’t sure what memory would leave my head anytime soon. He didn’t betray me with a stranger. He didn’t betray me with a random girl from his club. He chose to betray me with my best friend. I couldn’t help but wonder why. Why did Zara also choose to betray me? She was the one person who I wasn’t scared to be vulnerable around. She had seen every part of me. I was open with her about almost everything.

She’d thrown everything she had into this last round for this exact moment. She lifted her hand and revealed the final die—five. Twenty-nine points in total. “I won! I knew it! There’s no way you can roll five sixes again!” Before she even finished the sentence, I lifted my own cup. Five dice were perfectly lined up, all of them sixes. “Sorry, cousin. Looks like I’m still just a little better than you.” Taylor’s smile cracked. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed into her chair like her bones had been removed.

No matter his schedule, he always found time to whip up a cup of hot cocoa for me, then sat close by, watching as I took each sip. "Donna." The door tapped open, and one of my guys stepped in. "Got word from Italvia: Nolan Winston has kicked the bucket." I looked up. "How'd he go?" "Booze got the best of him, ended up a popsicle in some slum alley." He flicked a photo my way. "Caught it on the scene." I snagged the photo for a quick look. The man in the photo was huddled against a wall, covered in grime, with the telltale purple of a drunk's demise.

Their morale shattered, they fled the battleground, leaving behind their fallen comrades and broken munitions. Ava watched them go, her casket heaving with exertion and her mind numb with grief. As the dust settled and the cries of battle faded, Ava stood alone amidst the wreckage. Her abettors began to gather around her, their expressions a blend of admiration and anguish. She turned to them, her eyes filled with a profound sadness. " Kairo is gone," she said vocally, her voice pulsing." But her immolation won't be in vain. We'll recognize her memory by continuing to fight for the freedom she believed in." Her words reverberated with those who heard them, a lamp of stopgap in the darkness.

I voiced out. "And whose fault was that?" she said glaring at me. Your psychotic mind, I mumbled beneath my breath, just then she decided to drop one of her crutches, she tried to make it look like an accident but failed miserably. She's going to be the death of me, mumbled before adding a string of curse words to the statement. I hurried over to her and supported her falling figure by putting my hand around her waist leading her to the nearest table. I ignore how right it felt to place my hand around her waist or how she seemed to fit perfectly in my arms every time I carry her. I went to pick up the fallen crutch and made my way back to her.