For a moment we just stare at each other. The light from the cornucopia plays and flickers off Plato's' face. The arena is completely dark now except for the fire. This is the grand finale. The final fight. A last desperate battle, circling the magnificent burning shell. There can only be one victor.

Plato starts towards me, with one soul intention. He's about twenty metres from me and moves slowly with a limp. I look dead anyway so why would he try and run? Pain shoots through my whole body as I try to stand. All I can manage is to drag my weak body across the ground. I end up dragging my dying body half way around the burning Cornucopia to escape him. What else can I do?

Plato follows me around, his hand gripped tight to the axe. He snarls and my body somehow finds the energy to stand up. It is quite an achievement just to stand, but walking is near impossible. I'm limping terribly. I hear my knife drop from my belt to the ground. I must keep moving. My body protests uncontrollably, my legs screaming at me to let them collapse. Plato is catching up. If I collapse then he'll be on top of me. I hear a whoosh of air, as the axe swings right behind my head. Plato lets out a grunt of pain and anger. The axe swings behind my head again, this time closer. Knowing that the next swing will mean death, I stop in my tracks, turn and punch out at Plato's face. I hit him in the mouth and Aliss' ring splits open his upper lip doing more damage than I had intended. With Plato out of the fight, if not for just a second, I begin desperately hopping on the least damaged leg in an attempt to put some distance between that axe and me. The pain shoots through my body.

I make it around the Cornucopia, hopping past the wide entrance.

I trip. That's all it takes. One trip and I'm dead.

The breath rushes from my lungs as I hit the ground; I let out a deep groan of agony. The sound of Plato's feet dragging painfully across the ground get closer behind me. I turn my head to the right and see the axe. I look forward and stare into the bright fire. Well, this is how it ends then.

While I resign myself to this fate, my good eye catches site of the long curved blade sitting directly in the flames. It's now or never. As quick as a flash my left arm reaches forward and I snatch the blade up by its handle. Within the same second, I've rolled onto my back and the blade is swinging blindly above me. There's the sound of an impact and a shriek of pain as the blade hits Plato's hand. Two of his fingers fly off and the axe falls from his severed grip, but before the axe can hit the ground, my left hand is completely consumed by searing pain as the flame heated handle of the sword burns the flesh from my hand. I recoil my hand to my chest, weeping uncontrollably but no sound escaping my mouth. Plato has taken a step back, clutching his own bloody hand.

I haul myself to my feet. Plato advances upon me. I throw a punch with my right hand but he gets in first, his fist breaking my nose on impact. I fall back to the ground, blood streaming down my face. As Plato moves forward I kick out with my leg, hitting him directly in the groin. He keels over in pain. I'm on my feet again and knee him in the face, causing blood to spray into the air. I start laying punches into his face. The wounds on my right knuckles tear open again. I'm using both hands and the pain it causes me is crippling, but I keep punching desperate to knock him down. On the ninth punch my left wrist completely snaps. The wrist had been contorted from the pain of the burn, so the joint had snapped when the impact of the blow transferred through my awkwardly bent wrist. I stumble back. The agony is too much.

I keep stumbling back. This can't go on. I'm useless. Plato tries to stand straight, his body still twisted from the kick to the groin. His good hand goes to his boot and he pulls out a small throwing knife. His eyes lock onto my face and I know exactly where he's aiming. As he releases the knife into the air my left arm shoots up to protect my right eye. I feel the impact of the knife but no pain as it lodges itself into my forearm, just below the elbow. I lower my arm and see Plato lumbering towards me. I tear the throwing knife from my forearm and hold it out in front. Now the pain begins to set it.

I stumble backwards, slashing the air in front of me with the knife, desperate to keep Plato back. The ruined fingers of my right hand lose the grip on the blade and it ends up sailing harmlessly through the air and into the dirt.

Plato lunges forward delivering two sluggish punches to my face. I'm back on the ground again. Plato jumps on top of me and starts strangling. I feel my throat being crushed. A few more seconds and I'm dead. I am able to move my head just enough to clamp my jaw onto one of his wrists. I taste blood in my mouth and Plato's grip weakens enough for me to wriggle free, kicking him back.

Plato crashes onto me again and we are rolling across the dirt. His arms trap my body against his, as he tries to crush my neck again in a headlock. I manage to plant my foot on the ground and push off, causing my face to smack into his. I grab hold of his left cheek with my teeth and bite down as hard as I can, never letting go. Plato screams and tries to push me away, but I don't relent. As we roll around on the ground I feel my mouth tear away from his face. Plato's cheek remains between my teeth. I witness the bloody monster before me. I huge gaping hole now lies where his cheek used to be. I can see his blood soaked teeth as they line the side of his mouth.

I spit the flesh from my mouth and crawl towards the Cornucopia. Plato, bleeding uncontrollably from the face and making desperate moaning sounds follows me. He catches up and sends a punch into my jaw. I feel my jaw dislocate and my body is sent flying into the wall of the Cornucopia. I feel the searing pain of the fire and expect flames to engulf my body, but they don't. It's in that moment that I form my last desperate plan. I narrowly avoid another punch, and kick out at Plato's bare chest sending him to the ground once more. I squirm back towards the entrance of the Cornucopia. I force myself to stand. I look into the entrance. It's like a huge fireplace, completely filled with hostile flames. The heat is overwhelming. As Plato blunders towards me, I open my arms as if to embrace him. Seeing an advantage in this, Plato does the same. Our bodies meet and our arms lock each other in; and with all the strength my legs can muster, I lurch my body to the right, sending the two hugging tributes straight into the mouth of fire.