Names Hunger Games Novels & Stories

The pain, the fear, the crushing weight of my fate, it was all too much. With each mouthful, I devoured the food like a woman starved. But it didn’t satiate the hunger inside me. Not the kind of hunger that ate at my soul. Not the kind of hunger that made me feel like a pawn in someone else’s game. I hated this. I hated everything about it. I hated how powerless I was.

They all recognized what was happening: the Hunger wasn't trying to win anymore. It was trying to take everything down with it. Aurora saw it too, and for the first time since awakening, fear entered her eyes. She knew exactly what came next. The Hunger's voice thundered across creation in a final declaration, a final threat, and a final act of desperation. IF I CANNOT HAVE THE DREAM... The stars began collapsing, the network screamed, and reality started breaking apart. THEN NOTHING WILL EXIST. And the countdown to the end of creation began.

She returned her hands to the front of her stomach when the gunman locked his eyes on her belly. The gunman licked his lips eagerly. “I know you hate me, darling. You don’t really wanna talk to me. But tell me, did my game feel real to you? I tried to put real-life situations in the game, like your son’s kidnapping and the death of your husband. I wanted to make an action-packed video game, like Halo, Assassin’s Creed, or Final Kill 3.” The gunman paused for a second, licking his lips and admiring his last sentence. “The crazy couple who broke into your vacation house and kidnapped your boy were drugged criminals who were holding your son for ransom. But in my video game, I made the kidnappe

“Auntie Julie”, she cried with tears threatening to spill from her bright eyes. “I don’t want to go to that school anymore!” Julie made the monumental decision to be the guardian of her late sister Mara’s beautiful daughter when she died shortly after giving birth to Hannah. Being a mother isn’t easy, even for a normal child and Julie knew this. The problem was that Hannah wasn’t a normal child, and Julie learned when Hannah was very young that she had a strange ability to just know things.

I nodded to Xavier, he had every right to hate me, and if that made him feel better, then I would take it. I closed my eyes as he raised the knife and waited for him to plunge it deep into my chest. To be continued… (This book is a Duet, the Hunter and The Hunted. The Hunted i still being written, please see my website for more information. It is on my to be written list after I finish my final revisions of my main series and the spin off completion.)

Orion. Lyra. ⚡ Standing together. United. ❤️ Facing the Nameless Hunger. 🖤 ⸻ The First War. The true First War. Not against kingdoms. Not against memories. Against oblivion itself. 💀 ⸻ And they lost. 💔 ⸻ Not completely. But enough. ⸻ Because the Hunger couldn’t be killed. It couldn’t be imprisoned. It couldn’t be erased. ⚡ It could only be delayed.

Arlen had been avoiding the festivities, coming up with various excuses. The Hunger Games used to involve warriors and people from various walks of life, competing in a series of obstacles and challenges to become champions and win the royal prize. However, these games had now evolved into a showcase of the academy's students, with no expectation of bloodshed, yet still had thrilling moments. "The royal family will be seated to oversee the games and award the winners," Roxanne said, eager to share the first family gathering with the omega she was proud of. 'What does that have to do with me?' Arlen wondered. He couldn't see the connection.

“Those rules exist for a reason, Cam. To control your mind. To control your hunger. Don’t give them what they want.” He frowned. “Hunger?” “Yes,” I said quietly. “Be hungry. Hungry for more. Because hunger is how you survive.” Then I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees. “You want to know the real danger? It isn’t swords. It isn’t armies. It’s hunger. Fearlessness. Rebellion.”

She sent a wall of golden fire slamming into the black shadow. The tentacle hissed, not like burning wood, but like something boiling and angry. It shrank away, bubbling like tar in the sun. But for every one June held off, three more crawled up out of the hole. The man in the white suit had disappeared. Now, there was only a tall, shifting shape made of pure darkness—a thing with no face, just a single, glowing purple light where an eye should be. It pulsed, sick and bright. “We are the Hunger,” it said, its voice a swarm of whispers. “The Foundation built the oven. We simply wait for the bread to be done.”

Ikaris asked. Despite not having a specific craving for food, my hunger was undeniable. However, there was a distinct and unusual aspect to my hunger. It was not a typical hunger for sustenance but rather an insatiable longing for Ikaris and blood. The presence of Ikaris in close proximity only served to intensify my hunger. The desire to make contact with him and absorb the energy he emitted became increasingly urgent. Waiting any longer was simply not an option.