❖ Book 1 of 3 ❖
【 Slow burn fanfic 】
║ A Prequel to the Hunger Games Trilogy ║
Isla Dunne of District 4 was a career. She had trained her whole life for the Hunger Games, an annual event held by the Capitol. A blood bath where 2 children, ages 12-18...
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IT HAD BEEN a few days since they had found and killed the District Seven tributes. Since then, Isla noted that the boy from District Eight had died as his face was broadcasted in the sky just the other night. She assumed he succumbed to an infection or dehydration, but as things were moving slowly and the remaining pool of tributes was growing smaller, it could've been at the hands of another.
This left the five careers and two outlying tributes. Isla knew one of them was the girl down by the lake. She hadn't been able to keep track of the others, but after some discussion amongst themselves, they believed it to be the male tribute from Eleven.
Isla knew that this meant one more canon and she'd be running off in the night on her own. She was surprised Killian had stuck around after the double kill committed by herself, and even more so after the boy from Eight's canon had gone off. She had expected him to leave by now, as he had seemed so worried about how it would end between the group of careers. Yet, he hadn't said anything about it since their trip to the lake.
It was another boring day. They all sat around the cornucopia, lounging about without a care in the world. At this point, it was highly unlikely they'd see either of the remaining tributes unless they went looking for them. However, she knew that the longer they all sat here doing nothing, the more likely those in the Capitol would get bored. And boredom was bad.
"We should go try and find them, then get this over with." Nero grunted, sitting up from the shade under the tarp. Everyone looked at him, squinting against the sun.
"We have no clue where to even start looking. Maybe it would be better if we let them take care of it." Chiffon motioned to the sky as she often did when referring to the Gamemakers.
"But that could end badly for us, too." Andromeda pointed out, and Isla had to agree.
"They'd probably try and bring everyone to one spot." Killian spoke up from under his jacket, which shielded his face from the sun's rays.
"Yeah, that's what they try to do. Usually it ends up backfiring." Andromeda responded in a snarky tone. She was likely referring to the several careers who had died from mutts and natural disasters. Isla had to imagine it was frustrating, to have such a strong tribute sent into the games with such a high chance of winning, only for it to be taken away by an unnatural event. Which often ended up working out in a poorer district's favour.
"We'll give it another day. But if nothing happens by tomorrow, I'm not waiting for them to make something happen. It's been like a week and a half now. They're gonna wanna wrap this shit up soon." Nero let himself fall back onto his sleeping bag and propped his head up with one of his large arms.
