Hunger Games Excerpt Novels & Stories

I grabbed the water she kept for me and took a sip to dig at the food I ate. Five star treatment at a kidnapping camp can make you wanna give your kidney to them to start cutting from when they want to butcher you, you know. I kicked my legs up as I took spoon after spoon and before I could say Jack I was already done with my food and scraping the plate. Bad Habit, I know. But I'm just feeling hungry right now I swear but I'm okay now that I've devoured this food. Settings the plates aside I took the remaining gulps from the water can and kept it aside moving the plates aside, I heard the clicks again.

She got home and everything continued as usual but her mom came home late which meant no dinner. Eva woke up late in the night. She got out of bed, feeling groggy and her mouth parched. She came down to grab some water. She came down the stairs, zoning in and out of sleep,just to see a plate of food in the middle of the dinning table. Her sleepiness vanished, her parched mouth drooled with saliva and her stomach rumbled. She was starving. She steppes forward. The world around her had vanished. She was like a sailor, smitten by the song and beauty of a siren. Her hand had almost grasped the spoon when she remembered the words that were written in her book.

“Or your heart. It’s charity, Elara. He wants you to feel like you owe him your life.” I kept staring at the honey-pears. My stomach twisted painfully with hunger. We had nothing left except a few dried rations Kael had carried with him. Behind me, I heard movement. The Omegas were coming out of the ruins. I saw Miri first. The young girl wrapped her arms around herself, her small shoulders shaking in the cold. Then Harl stepped out behind her. The old man’s cough had grown worse since nightfall. My pride screamed at me. Burn the wagon! Show Kairos I would rather starve in the dirt than take anything from his table!

And one by one, they disappeared. The First Hunger screamed. “No!” Lucian turned. The creature was collapsing. The child had taken away its greatest weapon. Fear. The First Hunger suddenly rushed toward Amara. Lucian moved. But he was too late. The creature reached her. Then stopped. A tiny silver hand had grabbed one of its claws. The baby looked directly at it. And whispered: “You don’t have to be hungry anymore.” The First Hunger trembled. Then— it bowed. The darkness surrounding it dissolved.

Always watching. I looked at the tray. Watery broth, a chunk of bread gone stale at the edges. Steam rose in thin curls, filling the air with the faint scent of onion. My stomach growled, loud enough to make my cheeks burn. But I stayed still. Hunger was familiar. Hunger was another chain. Still… Cassian’s words haunted me. Survival isn’t about pride. It’s about being alive tomorrow to make another choice. I reached for the bowl. The metal was warm against my fingers. Slowly, I ate. Every swallow scraped against my throat, every bite tasted like rust. It felt like defeat, but it was fuel. Not for Reyes. For me.

she says, grabbing the food flask to pour some of the food into the plate, she placed the food on the tray and then on my lap carefully. I grabbed the spoon from the tray and gently scooped some into my mouth. The warm, comforting porridge slid down my throat, soothing my parched throat. The familiar taste of oats and honey brought a sense of comfort and nostalgia. After I had savoured the first bite, I started shovelling the porridge into my mouth without breaking a sweat. I was that hungry. Miranda stared at me in shock. "You devoured that in less than a minute? You should audition for 'Man v. Food,' Hazel!"

Evelyn. I closed my eyes and there she was, naked on the kitchen table, her dark hair spread like a halo, her brown eyes shining with golden sparks. Her scent impregnated in every corner of my memory. The taste of her blood still alive on my tongue, as if I had just fed. But I hadn’t fed. On the contrary, I was dying of hunger. “Damn her.” I murmured to the ceiling. The ceiling didn’t answer. Nothing answered here. I was alone with my hunger and my thoughts, and both were terrible company.

The First Heir lunged violently. Silver power exploded from her body. “STOP TALKING!” The Hunger blocked the attack effortlessly. Darkness swallowed the silver light whole. My breath caught. Impossible. Flash The First Heir kneeling alone in darkness. Starving. Crying. Broken. Then the Hunger whispering softly: “Let me carry the pain.” Silver light dimming. Silence. Present I froze. No. The Hunger looked at me carefully. “She understands.” The First Heir looked horrified. “Don’t listen to it!”

The moment her bare feet touched the thick rug, something inside her snapped awake, feral with hunger. Her eyes—hollow, fever-bright—locked on the low table beside the chair. A bowl of fruit sat there: apples, pears, dark purple grapes, a few figs still glistening with dew. Fresh. Ripe. Real. She lunged. Scarlett moved before thought and scrambled forward, hands shaking as she grabbed fistfuls of fruit, apple first, then pear, then grapes by the fistful. She shoved them into her mouth without pause—skin, seeds, stems, all of it—chewing with frantic, desperate speed, juice running down her chin and dripping onto the torn shift. She crammed more in, barely breathing between bites, as though af

My legs moved faster than I thought possible, propelled by pure, desperate instinct. I grabbed the plate, my hands trembling uncontrollably from weakness and urgency, and devoured it. I didn't care how I looked, how animalistic my actions might seem, shoving food into my mouth like I'd never seen it before. I didn't care if it made me seem desperate or uncivilized. Hunger had no shame, no dignity. My hands shoveled the food in, tearing at the bread, wolfing down the meat. It wasn't warm, it was bland, almost tasteless, but I didn't care. It was food, and my body cried out for it, absorbing every crumb.