Novel Hunger Games Novels & Stories

Chapter 8: Good girl Pov: Nyx I looked up as the door to my cell creaked open. My stomach was hollow with hunger, and my throat burned with thirst. It had been days since I'd had anything to eat or drink, and the ache was starting to consume me.

If he hadn’t shown up, I was sure Lexie would still be here today. I found my hunger had doubled since she left and I found myself having to feed more often but only on blondes that looked like her. For the first few months I would only feed but then I came across a girl that looked just like Lexie and I ordered her every time trying to fill the hunger that I had in Lexie’s absence for her. But even though the girl looked similar, the taste wasn’t the same and it never satisfied me one hundred percent.

I did a little twirl in the middle of the room and started combing the bookshelves to see what treasures I could find. I was just too excited to have found this place. I came across a smaller leather-bound book that had a weird symbol on the front and when I opened it, I realized that it was a history of the Hunter's. I decided to keep that book just in case I needed it. I was totally in my own world when I felt someone’s arms go around me and breath in my ear. "I see you found my favorite place in the house." My body shivered at the contact. I thought that I was going to melt into a puddle right then and there.

When she saw me approach, she only eyed me long enough to see what I'd scored, before returning to a book she must have snuck into one of the baskets from earlier. The Hunger Games. I knew the premise enough to know it was part of an extensive challenge between morals and survival that seemed to have her immersed enough to focus exclusively on the writing beneath her gaze. But while I began to skin and prepare dinner, I realized she was using it as a distraction as she didn't do as much as flip a page. She was simply debating breaking our silence or remaining obstinate.

She couldn't move, her body betraying her desire to escape. All she did was stare back at Xavier, meeting his challenge with silent resistance. She knew hunger, not for food but for victory, and it gnawed at her now as she declared, "I am starving. Each word dripped with the weight of their shared history, a testament to their resilience and the games they played—a game of chess where hearts were the pawns and every move was a calculated risk. Tension hung heavy between them, a palpable force in the tight confines of the car. It was a dance they both knew well, steps marked by confrontation and the palpable anticipation of what cruelty or kindness fate might bring next.

"Maddy! When did you get here? I didn't even notice you!" I chuckled, enjoying the moment of surprise. "Well, you were pretty lost in whatever you were reading. So, what's the name of the novel that has captured your attention?" I asked gently, nudging at her. Hazel's face fell, and a hint of sadness crept into her voice. "It's called 'Demoralised Plaything.' It's about a girl who feels trapped and controlled by someone she thought loved her, only to get pulled in by someone else and still remain insecure."

" The Hunger Games. What the heck is this?" I snatched it back from him. " I know because I read the book. However, you have to watch to find out," I say. They nodded. I put in the movie and start it as I sit back down on the couch. By the time the movies are over, they look at me. " You read a book about 24 kids going into an arena and are forced to fight to the death until there's one left?" says Kurt. " Yup. There are three books to the series," I say.

[The Hunger of 7.0] The scream wasn't coming from my throat, but it was vibrating through my teeth. It was a sound like grinding glass and dying stars, a digital hunger that felt like a swarm of insects crawling beneath my skin. The Heir wasn't just a voice anymore; it was a ghost trying to claw its way out of my chest to take its first real breath.

Whatever was really happening here, it was bigger than five million dollars. I set the cigarette down and rubbed my face with both hands. And then there was Elena. I sat back again, staring at the ceiling. What new game are you playing, Elena? She entertained me. She always had. From the moment she walked into my office for that interview, I’d known there was something more to her than a polished resume and sharp answers. I’d found out about Daniel. I’d watched her play her game. And I’d played mine right alongside her. But somewhere along the way, the game had become more than just a game. I wanted her, more than I wanted to catch this thief. But I am capable of getting both.

She stood up quickly and walked over to the small kitchen counter, her throat feeling like absolute sandpaper. She grabbed a large glass pitcher of water from the small refrigerator and poured it down her throat, practically drinking the entire contents in a desperate bid to quench her burning thirst. She had arrived at her apartment late in the afternoon, utterly exhausted from her brutal training session with Nimrod, and fatigue had claimed her the moment her head hit the pillow.