"If you survive these trials, and are sufficiently entertaining, then you can take pride in shaping the next official Hunger Games."
John looked around vainly trying to spot a loud speaker.
"Or rather you would take pride, if we didn't wipe your memory at the end."
"But... why..."
"Why you?" the voice interrupted. "You were selected at random, just like every contestant. Now if you've finished whining, you will find your supplies hidden behind the large fern covered rock."
Trailing his hand at his side, still unsure if this was real, John ventured round to the far side of the boulder, and found a sack of food, some tough wearing clothes, and a small assortment of weapons.
"To better test the games, we cut down the risk of casualties in the trial phase. Although, you are still in lethal danger... obviously."
Looking around, and listening intently there was only the sounds of the forest. At least, John assumed that was how a forest sounded. His trousers were already soaked from the dew on the grass, and his top wasn't really suitable either.
Stripping naked, he felt vulnerable, but quickly put on his new outdoorsy clothes, and felt better. Jamming the dagger and sheath into his belt, he rummaged through his supplies.
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