𝐯𝐢𝐢. 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

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▶️ war - hypnotic brass ensemble

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▶️ war - hypnotic brass ensemble

vii. DOING THE LORD'S WORK

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IT WAS THE DAY OF THE individual assessments and Thea was nothing short of excited. She knew she would get at least a ten but she was most excited to see the look on Sage's face when she does. Last night, he underestimated her, thinking she would show her talent to the max in front of every single tribute. No. She wasn't that stupid. But he was for thinking she would.

As she did yesterday, she slipped out from between her sheets and made her way to the dining table. She must've woken up either really early, or ridiculously late because it was pitch black outside. She tried to find a clock around the living area but there wasn't. Thea figured there would be some sort of clock on the television. With that, she turned the TV on, seeing the time in the corner of the screen.


3:09


What the fuck, why am I up so early? But the thing with Thea was that as soon as she was awake, she could not go back to sleep. So, she sat at the dining table, embracing the isolation and the darkness as she did on the train on the way here. But once again, someone had to interrupt because she heard cautious footsteps approach the room. She grabbed the butter knife from the napkin beside her and she hid around the corner from the hall where the person was. Thea was deathly quiet. I guess it's good training for the arena.

And once she could just about see the person's silhouette from her peripheral vision, she rounded the corner, holding the knife to their neck. Oh for fuck's sake, of course. It was Finnick... again. "Why the fuck are you up so early?!" Thea whisper-yelled, still holding the knife to his neck. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, in fear she was going to make him her first victim. His breath was hot against her face, causing goosebumps to run all over her skin.

Odair was speechless. "W-W-W-Why the fuck are you still holding a knife to my neck?!" he completely avoided the question, stuttering as he answered it with another question. Thea slammed the knife onto the glass table, letting its echo wrap around the silence of the room. "I thought you were trying to kill me," she mumbled, not actually having a valid reason to explain the knife.


"Kill you? With what? A weapon?" Finnick was so confused, and tired at that. Why was she up so early? Why did she have a knife? What would she have done with the knife if she didn't know it was him? "No, with the dark circles under your eyes, yes with a fucking weapon Odair. Okay, I'm on-edge," she brushed him off, walking to quench her thirst with a glass of water.

Her throat felt increasingly dry, as if someone scooped the sands of Four down her throat. Once the cold liquid touched her tongue, it was like a glacier breaking, a volcanic eruption; the water flooded her mouth, washing down the sand that had been lodged in there. Thea had no idea why her throat was so dry. She was fine before Odair decided his attempt at murder.

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 / the hunger games -ᶠ.ᵒWhere stories live. Discover now