Cato's Death

I stand there, at the edge of the Cornucopia with Peeta's head locked in my arms. Katniss stands in front of me, her bow loaded and ready to fire. However, we are at stalemate. If Katniss fires an arrow at me, both me and Peeta tumble off the horn to the mutts, and if I kill Peeta I get an arrow in my head.

I gradually increase the pressure of my arm around Peeta's neck, slowly strangling him. I grin, watching Katniss try to save her precious Peeta. I know that I will win, I have a plan and I will use it. I feel Peeta tracing something on the back of my hand and Katniss gets it before I do.

The arrow flies and sticks into my hand. I uncontrollably let go of Peeta and he slams on the clod metal. I, however, stumble backwards and fall of the back of the horn. My back hits the floor with a painful thump. I get up and take out a knife, knowing that the mutts will be on me in a second.

The pack of ugly dogs lunge at me. I dodge the claws and teeth occasionally jabbing out at a mutt with the knife. Slowly I realise that I'm not going to take out all of the mutts by myself. So gradually I move round to the side of the Cornucopia, in hope of climbing it again and getting out of the mutts reach.

After about an hour of fighting the mutts, I am simply too tired to carry on. I let the mutts rip and tear at my protective body suit. I cry out in pain as the mutts sink their teeth into my shoulders and drag me into the mouth of the giant horn, leaving a trail of my blood behind.

The mutts work away at me for what seems like hours, but they finally rip open my body suit. They tear at my unprotected flesh and my spine-chilling screams echo in the air. This is torture. This is hell. I let tears flow from my cheeks as my own blood flies everywhere. My guts are being pulled and twisted and I feel a pain I have never felt before. Blood spurts from all around my body, covering the mutts. The blood only seems to make them hungrier.

A dark shape looms over me. I am surprised that I'm not dead already. I bet the Capitol are glued to the screens, unable to take their eyes away from the bloody spectacle in front of them. The dark shape raises a huge paw with huge glinting claws. Just before my wind pipe is sliced in two, I think, "this is my punishment for what I did in these games and now I am paying for it. This is my turn to die".