Thresh Hunger Games Novels & Stories

She was dangling relief just out of reach to see me squirm. I tore my gaze away, biting my lip. The smell of the burger was torture, warm and greasy in the air. My throat was so dry it ached, but I forced myself not to beg. Days had passed since they gave me anything—no food, no water. Just the constant gnawing hunger and thirst. Celeste leaned closer, holding the food inches from my face. “Here. Just one bite,” she whispered. I stared at the burger. For a moment, I nearly caved—saliva gathering, my chest tightening. Just a bite of that cheap fast-food bun, and I would cry from relief.

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.

He turned, left, and the door slammed again, this time with finality. Silence returned. I stared at the tray of rotting food still lying on the ground. My stomach twisted again, and I clutched it, wincing. Hunger wasn’t just a feeling anymore. It was a part of me, crawling under my skin like ants. My mouth burned with thirst. My tongue felt swollen. I forced myself to crawl toward the tray. Not to eat. Just to look. The meat still looked black, parts of it almost slimy. The bread was worse—green fuzz curling along the crust. But the cup of liquid…

"The warriors and the healthy don't eat tonight. Not a crumb. We give every calorie to the mothers and the scouts. We need the scouts' eyes sharp for the trail, and the mothers need to stay strong enough to keep the infants warm. We carry the hunger so they don't have to." Jax watched as a young Whisper-Wind mother a few yards away tried to soothe a crying child. Her face was hollow, her eyes sunken into dark pits of exhaustion. The "Council’s Blight" hadn't just murdered their crops; it had seemingly sucked the vitality right out of their blood. They looked like gray ghosts drifting through the silver moonlight.

Tabitha’s POV They didn’t give me any bread or water again aside from the one the guard delivered in the morning. And it’s already night. I am parched and my stomach is growling, demanding to eat something. I was so desperate and hungry, I settled for the brick-like bread I got earlier. It’s definitely a bad idea to eat it without water. I almost choked on it twice, and it only made me even more thirsty. The weight of thirst, hunger, pain, and despair crushes my spirit.

I fall, memories of the witch pit, of my brother dying, of selling myself at 18. Cael fusses. Then he laughs. Baby laughter, clean and bright. Sorrow staggers back. “What, what is that.” “Joy,” I choke out. “You’ve never felt it.” Cael reaches for Sorrow. Sorrow runs. To Cael. Not to fight. To be held. I take him. He’s cold, shaking. “King, warm,” he mumbles. Two down. **Thorn Four** doesn’t walk. She flows, liquid, like Rowan but worse. No shape. “I am Hunger,” she says. “I eat, or I die, feed me.”

Nora picked up the document. The paper was heavy. slightly brittle at the fold lines She read it slowly. Completely. The fourth section was nine lines. Nine lines were established. in binding succession language that their physical safety. cognitive integrity That violation of this protection constituted a direct offense against the anchor arrangement itself and that's why against the succession. Nine lines that made every memory erasure on this island a succession violation. Next thing she knew, every student was removed. Every flagging. Every box disappeared before breakfast while a twenty-year-old girl ate her eggs in the dining hall without knowing she was already gone.

“We’re not going there, Dee. Twisted games were Raze’s thing. Now I’ve promised the gold, I’ll give it. Because I know I could have died this winter, and they’ve kept their side of the bargain so far.” “We have the keys to the weapons room.” “Has it been checked?” “Not since last week, I don’t like going too often in case they think there's a pattern and try something,” Quinn confessed. “But they have started complaining about the food. We’re out of dried fruit and canned meat now. It’s just porridge and granola-type shit now.” Dee chirped merrily, clapping her hands. “Then it’s time! We need to start working on getting out! Finally!”

"They are old men who care about nothing but blood and money. To them, you are a mistake that needs to be erased. Here, behind these walls, you are safe. Outside, you are a target." ​He walked to a small table and picked up a silver tray. He brought it over and set it on the bed. It was filled with fruit, bread, and a glass of milk. ​"Eat," he commanded. ​"I’m not hungry," I lied. My stomach actually felt like it was shrinking, but I didn't want to take anything from him. ​"The child is hungry," Alaric said. His voice was low and serious. "The Thorne blood grows fast, Elena. It needs energy. If you don't eat, it will take the energy from you. It will make you weak. It will make you sick."

I have my eyes on the bigger prize. Survival. Howen has a purpose besides the sex. I only have a few more weeks before we need the first vault opening. The second half of the Freeze rations are in there. People are already edgy. The council meetings I attend talk of nothing else. If one of the meals served by the kitchens on those drab grey trays is minutely smaller they all start to panic. Idiots.