The Hunger Games: The Cry of Temperance

The Cornucopia Aftermath

 Six.

Six shots rang throughout the air, creating a rift in the already disturbed atmosphere.

Eighteen tributes remain.

The sound was like music to his ears, as Nucleo looked up at the sky as he huddled up by an upper floor in one of the ruined buildings. His eyes never left the door nor did his hand ever lift off the brick that he had plucked off from the industrialized building he had resided in. His stomach had growled heavily as the hours had went on, and once the sun had went down, both his hunger and trepidation had proportionately augmented.

It was only a matter of time before someone would sponsor. He just had to wait a moment as his efforts couldn't have been for nothing.

As he continued to stick by the door, he ripped off the cape and stayed in his cotton shirt– rolling up his pant sleeves as they lifted up to his knees. His breathing hitched as he continued to watch the door, it was all his attention could be very well focused into. His eyes had constricted as he continued to shakenly grasp the brick in his hand. The moment he'd hear footsteps, he would stand up and knock them over the head as soon as possible.

There was no way he was going to die in here.

Even as his consciousness had went against him, perhaps making him think falsely of his surroundings. After the cornucopia had slowed down and the hours had gone by, all he could see was the blood that had splattered across the arena– and the hovercraft that came in to pick up the bodies after they had been done with.

Occasionally, he could hear the sound of rummaging through the buildings. Sometimes they were under him, sometimes they were right next to him– and sometimes, he could even make out different voices that he had picked up on during training. There was different people each time that had come by, but most had not stayed for long. The sound of their footsteps had gotten into his head, and it had only been at least twelve hours since the Games had even started.

The nights had been even darker than daytime, more than he had ever seen in District 5. Every time he lingered for a moment, he could feel himself dozing off. But reluctantly, kept himself awake even despite needing it desperately.

The night before this all had started, he couldn't even get a wink of sleep. He was becoming perilless in his attempt to keep awake– because for all he knew, it could be his very last time falling. He didn't want to be up on that list in the sky.

From what he saw up in the sky, all he could see was that his district partner was still alive despite how weaker she had shown herself to be. Though.. Arguably, she was weaker through perception since she scored higher than him, even he knew this.

He wasn't sure if she was much of a threat, but even then, he wouldn't go against his own odds when he could control it himself. As long as he could woo the crowd as best as he could as he had done for the while, then he would be able to get through these Games quickly. All he needed to do was just be patient.

But as time had passed on, his head cocked immediately to the door as he looked at the doorframe. His hand clutching the brick tighter until it fragmented into his skin, its pinching causing his body to flare as he raised it overhead.

The moment he saw the door open, he waited patiently as he lined his back up against the wall. The rubble chipped as the door moved, lodged into the wall and practically rendering it useless now. It hadn't open abruptly but slowly– as he expected most people to do as he stood by the door, brick still in hand.

As he looked by the door, his breathing had sharpened a bit– immediately giving away his position. His eyes darting back towards the door with sweat beginning to dampen the brick in his hands.