Sound Hunger Games Novels & Stories

She closed her eyes, the cold seeping deeper, the hunger a constant companion. Then her ears caught a sound first, like a distant promise—slow, deliberate footsteps echoing down the damp corridor. Her heart stuttered. She thought it was Odessa again, bringing the daily torment disguised as food. Today, her pride was gone and it didn’t matter. If the Beta spat in the porridge, poured dirt into it, or kicked it across the floor, Scarlett would still eat. She would crawl through the bars and lick the stone clean if that was what it took.

“What kind of pieces?” He looked down at his hands. “I know what hunger feels like. The kind I have. I know it the way you know a language you’ve always spoken — it’s not something I learned, it’s just what I am.” He paused. “I know what it feels like to be near someone who has what I need but won’t give it. That feeling — I know it very well.” The air between us changed. Slightly, but I felt it. “Did that happen?” I said. “Before me.”

"We're burning out, Malakai! We need fuel, or we won't be able to dig ourselves out when the storm breaks!" "He's right." Roman's voice is calmer but strained. "We can't keep going like this. The hunger is going to override everything." I sit there in the dark, listening to the monsters fight over me. My hands are still on my neck, and I can feel my own pulse hammering against my palms. They're arguing about who gets to feed on me. Like I'm not even a person anymore. Like I'm just meat.

I wouldn't be a pawn in whatever sick game the roommates were playing with my life. My fingers clenched around the map. I hated the one person at the center of these ridiculous games. I hated the way he controlled everything, the way my stupid body still reacted whenever he came close. Disgusting. My chance with Prof. Valerius was out of reach. I shoved the map beneath my pillow and stood up abruptly. I needed food. My stomach let out a hollow, painful growl. I hadn't eaten since before the sedation, and the hunger was starting to make my thoughts jagged.

Her stomach churned with hunger, a sharp pang cutting through her grief. She hadn’t eaten since the attack, but how could she? The thought of food felt like a betrayal to the memories of her people. And yet, the emptiness gnawed at her insides, relentless and demanding. Her heart clenched as her mind dragged her back into the nightmare she desperately tried to bury. She could still hear the blood-curdling sounds of that night—the growls that tore through the air like thunder, the screams that were abruptly cut short, the sickening crunch of wood splintering under immense force.

But then he didn't have our scent on him; no matter how drunk I was, I could have picked up the scent. All manner of things kept running through my mind until daybreak. I didn't take any food last night, and I'm so damn hungry right now. I couldn't even sleep well; there are so many insects here. Likewise, I just hope I don't contract the virus and die before she dies; that would be so ridiculous. “Hey,” I called out to a particular soldier sitting opposite the dungeon, puffing smoke in and out. “I'm hungry; get me something,” I said to him, and he looked around and smirked, then continued going through his phone and smoking.

[The Hunger of 7.0] The screaming in my head had finally stopped, replaced by a cold, hollow hunger that didn’t belong to my stomach. It was a vibration in my marrow, a demand for something physical, something solid. For the first time since the mountain, the Heir wasn’t just a voice—it was a parasite looking for a door. ~~~

My hunger had reached its limit, and the scent of nourishment overwhelmed my willpower. With trembling hands, I picked up the fork and took a small bite. The flavors exploded on my tongue, satisfying my hunger and awakening a long-forgotten pleasure. The men observed my capitulation with a mix of relief and satisfaction, as if fulfilling their duty to ensure my survival. As the days turned into weeks, this ritual of nourishment and submission became a routine. Each meal brought with it a delicate dance of resistance and acquiescence. I tried to maintain my independence, my spirit unyielding, but the persistent pangs of hunger weakened my resistance.

The sound is sharp and raw, echoing off the walls. I hunch over, clutching my stomach with both hands. It was so fast and so mean. I don't know what’s happening. Am I dying? Is this the heat that the old women talk about in whispers? I don't know, but the pain makes the hunger even sharper. It’s like there’s a giant hole inside me that needs to be filled right now. I need something in me. I need it so bad I can’t even get a full breath of air.

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.