Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games Trilogy, nor am I making any money from this fan-fiction. The credit for all the lovely character (to be) borrowed from the book go to the author of the series, Suzanne Collins and I am in no way making money from them either.
A/N: This is my first fanfic so I apologize for any misspellings, displeasings, or shortness here. Oh and this game is set pre-Katniss.
On the Run
She ran through the trees as fast as she could, making sure not to trip on the tree roots that were surely going to be the death of her and trying not to trip on her own two feet. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and she knew she couldn't run any longer. She secretly hoped that whomever was chasing her tripped on the roots of the trees themselves, just so she could take a break from running. She took a quick glance in an attempt to find out who was following her at such an inhuman pace. The glance over her shoulder told her nothing, but the rustling of the branches behind her as she ran suddenly getting louder told her all she needed to know. She knew that whoever she would encounter would most likely not spare her life 1. because she had never met a tribute in this year's Hunger Game that could run that fast, and 2. she was a Career from District 1 and everybody hated the Careers, especially those Careers in the protection of the Capitol, namely District 1.
She attempted one last time to see who her attacker was, but as she turned she felt a sharp pain as her foot caught on the other in mid-turn. As she fell she tried to turn so she could get a better look at her possible killer but in doing so she couldn't break her fall and her head hit the dirt hard, her vision blurred.
Now, her feet throbbing, her head pounding and her vision blurred, she knew she was going to die, she didn't know how or at who's hands but she knew she was going to die. She tried to back up on her hands to further escape her soon to be murderer but only further hindered herself when her hands ran into rock behind her that she hadn't see when she was running, she felt the warmth of her own blood ooze from her skin. Now with her hands wet with her own blood her grip on the rocks was no longer good, she tried to reach for a nearby try to lift herself and continue on her path to flee from her attacker, but to no avail. Head throbbing she realized her hands would keep slipping from any surface she could possibly use to hoist herself up, she stared at her hands for a second trying to take in her eminent death, the blood now covering her entire hand as it continued to flow through her dirty blood-covered palms. She sat for a moment, panicked, she could hear her killer getting closer, approaching where she sat, helpless but for her voice which she could yell with and teeth which she could bite with. To her it sounded as though she had maybe a few seconds more. Staring at the blurs she believed to be her feet, confirmed when she wiggled her toes and the blob wiggled to, Well shit, she thought, I knew my feet would lead me to my death.
She knew she couldn't go anywhere else and could do nothing productive to prevent her death so she sat there knowing that one way or another she would be dead soon. Her head throbbed one more time and she blacked out, but not before seeing the blurred image of her attacker approach her with what she thought had the general shape of a club in its hands.