Author's Note
I do not own The Hunger Games.
Beep…
Beep…
Beep…
Beep-beep-beep.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.
Cold…
So cold…
And numb.
Hands sore.
Legs stiff.
Head heavy.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.
Eyes burning.
Too dark.
The gloves were restrictive in this mode.
And the boots were uncomfortable.
The helmet just weighed too much.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.
Cold burning the skin.
Almost suffocating.
The buckles for the gloves clicked undone. Thank the gods. Once hands were removed, they could be flexed and massaged until some feeling returned.
Nothing had ever been said about this part of everything.
The boots followed a moment later, but the pod was too small for the boots to be removed.
Helmet next then.
Fingernails scrape down the smooth sides for a moment, but then there's purchase and it could be pulled off.
The cold blue light of the pod grew ever brighter.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEEEP.