A Sacrifice

by Ellis Monroe

All my life I have had to learn to survive. It was the only thing left to do in a world as broken and corrupt as the one I live in now. But now I see that survival is very much like a game. There are a set of rules that must be followed that will help you win or in other words, stay alive. But wining ensures that you live, if not, it's not just the game that ends. It's your life.

1. Chapter 1

This is my first fanfiction on The Hunger Games!

I've been thinking about this story for quite some time and just never got around to writing it. This is a story that I think could have happened in a past Hunger Games and does not have most of the original cast of characters, but I hope you'll still read it. :)

I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES!

Enjoy!

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I move silently through the brush with grace but alertness. I skip each stick and pine to avoid being heard by my prey. It is about four hours after noon and the mockingjays sing softly in the wind. I have found ways to communicate with them to help locate where I am and where my game lies. There singing leads me more west so I follow their guidance.

I leap atop a fallen tree log and balance my way to the top of the hill it rests on. I gather old brittle leaves and crush them and watch which direction they flee to in the wind. The wind blows north and the sun is headed west. I know where my prey is hiding.

The tree not ten feet away has short broken branches that are easy to scale. Supporting my weight with my feet and carefully pulling at the short wooden limbs I climb higher towards the intertwined branches above. This way they will not see me coming from here. It is almost a pity that prey can never see their immediate doom coming closer feet by crippling feet. The branches up here are much stronger so there is little balance that is needed but you can never be too careful. One wrong move and it's the end of a hunt for the day.

Keeping my bow in place I slip on of the twelve arrows from the quiver and rest it on the grip. A snap from below alerts all six of my senses and I lock the arrow in place and pull back the string against the weight of the bow. I slow the drawing so that the stretching doesn't give too much sound.

I can see my prey from here. They wander lifelessly through the brush, completely unaware that I have found them. I lock my eyes to my target, the back of the neck. It will ensure an immediate kill, not one ounce of pain, not one subtle sound.

They stop for a moment, questioning if they are truly alone. They look into the distance around them, oblivious to what the can see. A golden leaf breaks free from the branch I am perched on and flutters down bellow, right in front of their form. Before I can give them the time to turn and look above, I release the arrow.