Thresh Hunger Games Novels & Stories

In his place sat a man carved by betrayal, loss, and a guilt that gnawed at him every waking hour. Around him, the survivors of Silvermere huddled in small, weary clusters. Thirty-seven warriors are still able to hold a blade. A handful of elders. Women and a few older pups who had escaped the worst of the slaughter. Their faces were gaunt, eyes hollow from hunger and grief, blankets and cloaks salvaged from the ruins wrapped tightly around their shoulders. The cave was deep enough to hide them from casual patrols, but the damp chill seeped into their bones and the constant drip of water from the ceiling reminded them they were living like animals. Thorne hated it. He hated every second of t

They have to look for food in order to accumulate enough strength to fight against them. On the other side of the city, there is an area where many survivors gathered. They have many foods and drinks but not enough for everyone to survive for four months. The only way to survive is to look for another warehouse – full of canned goods. However, everyone is very scared of zombies. No one is confident enough to fight against those zombies but the leader selected a few to find for them. What a pity, they became a cannon fodder for them.

Kendra's POV I don't know how long it's been since Ryker took me. I haven't seen much of him just his stupid henchmen. They bring me food and water but I hardly touch it. I drink the water to keep me hydrated but I refuse to eat anything because I am afraid that it may be drugged. The door opened and Hunter stood in the doorway. "I see you haven't eaten again. Look, Kendra, I know that you don't trust us but you have to eat." I just looked at him then looked away. He picked up the tray of food and walked back to the door. "Fine have it your way. I'm sure Ryker will be thrilled to know that you are refusing to eat." He closed the door behind him and I just curled up into a ball the best I cou

“Food.” She looked confused. “Blackthorne has two hundred guards on the main rotations,” I said. “The kitchens receive food for them.” Jace glanced over my shoulder. I pointed at the page. “This amount could feed twice that number.” Orin frowned. “Extra supplies?” “Every week?” Thorne came closer. I flipped through more pages. The same pattern appeared again and again. More food than we needed. More water. More dried meat. I looked at Orin.“Where did the excess go?”

If they were truly going back to the Rift, there was no telling what they might encounter. Cassian stayed close, watching her with a quiet intensity. He wasn’t trying to stop her anymore, but she could feel his tension, the way his fingers twitched as if resisting the urge to grab her wrist and drag her away from all of this. Dorian, as usual, tried to break the mood. “Well, if we’re all planning on possibly dying tonight, I vote we eat something decent before we go.” Lena shot him a dry look, but he was already digging into their supplies, pulling out what little food they had left. “Not exactly a feast, but hey, better than nothing.”

It's been a week, and any last remnants of Kaia's optimism were extinguished by the hunger gnawing at her insides. After all, her daily ration only consist of one slice of hard bread and a small bottle of water. She felt very tired and weak, and sometimes she also feel dizzy. In all her life she had never known true hunger, not until now. Kaia knew that if she didn’t have low blood sugar, it probably would have been nowhere as bad, but it was a small comfort when hunger kept her awake at night, curling up on the narrow bed, the only piece of furniture in the room she was kept in.

of the cycles—the hunger, the pack-lust, and the raw, unrefined survival instincts that were too predatory to be "Gilded" I stood upon a floor of Cracked Red Clay and Iron-Dust. The air was bone-dry, smelling of parched earth and the metallic, spicy scent of Blood-Grain—the genetically stunted wheat that the East had been forced to eat for twenty-six cycles to keep their "Too Much" energy in a state of permanent, weakened famine. My sunset-gold fire was no longer a pillar; it had become a Low, Smoldering Hearth-Light, its emerald-crimson edges flickering with the defensive caution of a wolf who hasn't eaten in a month.

Nearer to the gun, several soldiers lay lifeless on the sand, including the Lord General. “F-k!” Johil exclaimed and began to run through the rocks, sex forgotten. Thaelen stayed where he was, looking down at the devastation and hoping that the women and child were not from the village. He could not go. He was too hungry from the days without food, and even if he went to their aid, he could not afford to use saliva or blood to heal them, for fear of giving himself away. “Hello, hello.” Thaelen smiled as he turned slowly. A solution to his hunger had presented itself. “Hello Holf.”

Rachael POV Hunger beat through my stomach so hard it felt like something alive was clawing at me from the inside. I grabbed my small bag with shaky fingers, the strap rough against my jaw. It had been too long since I’d eaten anything real, and every breath felt lighter than the one before, like my body was giving up little by little. If I didn’t find something soon, I knew I’d pass out. Maybe for hours. Maybe forever.

The plastic keys clicked—a rapid, insectile rhythm that grated on my nerves. "Logistical update," Wolfy muttered, not looking up. "Grain reserves are critical. We are running on a caloric deficit. If we do not secure a food source within fourteen days, the riots will begin. Hunger overrides loyalty. It is a biological imperative." "We can hunt," Viggo suggested. He was sharpening his warhammer again. The sound of the whetstone against the iron was a rhythmic scraping that made my teeth ache. "The Wastes are full of Sand-Eaters. Meat is meat."