And here is the semi-final chapter of my story. Enjoy!

I moved quickly and silently through the forest, pausing to look over my shoulder. I had both of my bows, sixty arrows slung in my quiver, two knives at my belt and a scythe in the sack I kept from Katie. If this was the end of times, I was freaking glad to be in it. The final day in the arena, the final point of conquest was to be completed in the very area my life began in these games, and where it just might end as well. I thought back to a time where Colby was so excited, thinking that we could win and I had scoffed him, thinking it was impossible for Thatcher, Lone and both tributes from ten to die before one of us did. Then Colby was killed and it me even more hopeless but, even more enraged at that time. But, now I was in the situation where Lone's allies were all gone and he knew all along that I was the tribute to beat because although my heart cracked, I still was strong and able to function. I was ready, ready to kill whoever challenged me, human, bird, beast, inanimate objects, everything would fall in front of me. It was time for my last day in the arena. Today, the Gamemaker's dropped the temperature down by uh; I wanted to say 20 degrees so now it was a bitter 70 degrees in the arena. I was tending to a fire, not caring if Lone showed up or not. I still had my sleeping bag, from the first day at the Cornucopia. I got bored, so bored after awhile so I decided to go take a walk when the axe went flying towards my head. I ducked and sent an arrow at Lone's heart. There he was his face beet red, two axes strapped at his belt, and a wicked sword in his hand. I pulled out the scythe, and Lone skidded to a stop, his eyes narrow.

"You. You stole that from Thatcher's body." Lone's voice was impossibly soft.

I gave a sly grin. "Yeah, so?"

Lone looked at me. "I guess it is time for me to chop your head off."

I shuddered. "Or for you to leave me alone."

Lone shook his head. "Fat chance Jonathan, fat chance."

We charged each other, his sword swinging down to my gut, my scythe at his legs. I sidestepped just in time for Lone to trip, my scythe slicing Lone's left leg. He screeched, and then punched my jaw. I fell back, red dots filling my vision. Lone then tackled me in a surge of anger, but I delivered a side kick to his jaw as I fell. Lone stumbled back. I realized something.

"You and I are terrible at hand-to-hand combat."

Lone smiled, a little. "Yep. So what are you suggesting?"

I threw my shoulders back. "Me and you become allies. The alliance rule is still in effect. We win, and neither of us has to die."

Lone strode up to me. "Sure, that's a good idea."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "May I be your ally?"

Suddenly I felt pain. Lone had stabbed me in the gut. "No, you can't. I will never be your ally."

I toppled. "You trickster." The blood came pouring out.

Lone shrugged. Then, he grabbed an axe from his belt and then, got over me. Just like Rachel and Don when they tried to kill me. "When you made that big splash at open ceremonies, I thought to myself, gee they have a good stylist." Lone said. "But, after you lost your temper in the Training Room, I thought you would be an amazing person to have on our own side. Till you got that twelve however. The breath was sucked out of me. I tried to kill you at the Cornucopia; you broke people's hearts at the interviews. See my connection? Well, then we started using you're allies which made you get demented. It was funny. Then, Katie died. Something in you snapped. A vital piece of you was gone. Then there was the feast. I ordered my sister to go kill you. She had killed Leeane and when you killed her, and I found the arrow; you were the only one left who used it. My revenge was beyond trying to be better than you because now, it was a family problem. Then, Thatcher killed your last ally, you destroyed my stuff. Our final straws had been executed. You made that warning to me and look, it hasn't happened. My hopes of Thatcher killing you were very childish. But, now when Thatcher died, my best tribute; I knew it was my duty only to kill you and now I will do just that. You were a good tribute Jonathan Crimson, but as my ancestors say C'est La Vie, it means that's life. Goodbye."

Lone raised the axe, about to slam it into my skull. I thought about Lucas watching and I hoped, for pity sake to make it quick. Then, the sword emerged from Lone's chest and he gasped. He fell to his side when the sword was redrawn from his back. Who just stabbed him? Was it Lyon back from the dead? Or a Gamemaker who got angry? No, it was none of the above. It was Don.

HOLY Shit! Don comes and saves the freaking day! Well, honestly, I didn't have anything else to put in my mind about Lone's death.