Dimensional {Harry Potter/Hunger Games}

Chapter 3 (Hunger Games)

While she was contemplating her experience in the Hunger Games so far, the gamemakers were searching every system they had for the female tribute of District 10's location. She was definitely in the arena, they had seen her running from the cornucopia while the first day's bloodbath ensued and after that the they hadn't really focused on her; they were more preoccupied with pulling the bodies of the dead children from the arena and capturing the bloody fight on the cameras for all of Panem to see. They had started the games off with a violent snow storm and since then, they hadn't been able to find her tracker on the map. She was MIA. Many theories had been thrown around, from her digging her tracker out of the skin of her forearm with a blade to a faulty tracker placed by them in the first place. As they continued their search for the missing tribute, they made sure that their commentator, Caesar Flickerman with his entire orange getup, avoided the subject of her completely.

   

Five days had come and gone in the arena and Liv was living as comfortable as possible in her igloo she had built during her second day. She had a tally of the days and tributes dead on two of the ice blocks that made up her wall; five days, ten tributes left. There were two from District 1 and 3, one from 2, 4, 7, 9, 12 and Liv. She was surprised that someone from District 12 had lasted this long, but just as that thought crossed her mind, another cannon sounded. She leaned over to her wall, shovel in hand and put a mark on her ice wall; this marked fifteen deaths and nine still alive—for now.

   

All of the tributes' mentors were sitting in a room with a massive television screen displaying the games. Each of these people had participated in the horrid games and had survived to become a victor and here they were now, watching more children from their district be slaughtered for entertainment. The hatred for the games was mutual among the room, but no one dared voice their dangerous opinion as they were currently sitting in the place that started it all. A victor from District 4, sat on the corner of the couch watching as a mentor from District 10 paced the room nervously. They had a reason to be nervous; their male tribute had been killed at the cornucopia as soon as the games started and now their female tribute hadn't been spoken of or seen since she ran from the bloodbath. It was as if she had gone a-wall. Even though the mentor from 4 was only 17, it seemed to him that the gamemakers were covering their asses by not speaking of her and he felt pretty strongly that they had indeed lost a tribute in the arena and were trying to keep it on the down-low. They couldn't have the public knowing about it; it would just give the districts some form of hope that the Capitol was prone to making errors.

    He couldn't help but think back on his time in the arena during the 65th Hunger Games, he had killed multiple tributes as he wielded his now trademark triton. He had only been 14 at the time, but there wasn't a day that he didn't think back on the people he killed. He sometimes even wished that he had just been killed on day one. There was a particular saying among the victors; that it was better to be killed the first day because you were still yourself than to survive until the end. He could clearly remember the day he had reached his breaking point, where the threat of someone else hunting him that hung over his head had become overpowering had changed him from that point on. He was no longer the boy he had been when he first stepped into the arena; he had become an experienced killer, a person just desperate to survive with what little sanity he still had. He was broken from his haunting memories when the District 10 mentor asked everyone in the room,

    "Did any of you see them set of Livia's cannon? Or see her on the death list? Maybe I missed it."

His voice held slight desperation as he scanned the room for anyone willing to give him an answer. But all he received were slight shakes of the head. He then turned specifically to the young, attractive District 4 victor who had yet to shake his head.

"Odair?"

The victor from 4 continued to stare at the screen without answering for a second before his sea colored eyes met the victor from 10's.

"They've lost her."

"That's impossible, Finnick." 10's laugh was depressing. "The gamemakers don't just lose a tribute. She'd have to cut that tracker out of her arm before they lost her, and you could tell just by looking at her that she would never do that."

"Could? Do you truly believe she's dead, Cognac?" Finnick found that his voice came off fiercer than he meant. Calming himself, he continued. "I bet she's tougher than you think, especially if she's managed to get off their radar."

Cognac nodded his head, but he wasn't convinced. He still believed that Livia Penrose had died and the Capitol and gamemakers didn't even care enough to even mention her death.