My final battle.

I can feel the tension in the huge room of all the people watching, each choosing one or the other. A couple beads of sweat roll down my face, but I quickly wipe them away. There's no need to worry. I've done this hundreds of times before - why should this fight be any different?

Because it's the one that really matters.

In all the four years I've spent at Fighting Academy Number 674, I've learned a lot. I started out as a little black-haired freak that everyone called a vampire. I would hang out in the corner of the lunchroom all through elementary school. When I got to mid school, I would get in fights a lot, but I always lost. I failed every class, and never had any friends, so when I finally finished, I knew what I would do next.

Once you finish you're preliminary schooling, you can choose either to continue to high school, or to transfer to a fighting academy. The government encourages the latter, since the world has become so dangerous, but some still want to finish their education, claiming that brains are most important. Which they're not.

In fighting school, I got my big break. I fit right in, and I befriended a bunch of delinquents like me. I excelled at combat, and I was the best in my class. I still am.

I scratch at the guards strapped around my hands, and attempt to steady my breathing. It's fine. You got this, Cammile.

"We love you, Frank!" A shout comes from the bleachers. I look up to see my friends standing in a group, hooting and holding up a huge banner that says Cammile Frank For Da Wiiiiiiiiiiin.

I grin and give them a big wave, before turning back to my opponent.

Deschutes Cross has been my only competitor for those four years. I'm better, of course, but they had to choose someone to pit me against for my final test. The point is that you have an equally skilled opponent, and if you win, you graduate, and if you don't, you do another year. But it's pretty hard to find an "equal opponent" when I have three times the points of anyone else at school.

Des has 572 points total, and I have a perfect 600. Okay, fine. I have 599, but that's only because I lost my first ever battle. And they purposely put me against a third-year.

"You're going down, Frank," I hear Des whisper. We're not supposed to trash talk each other, but it's not like they have hidden microphones in our mouths.

I glare at her, and she sneers. She has her dyed-pink hair tied up in a big knot at the back of her head. I notice that it's wet with sweat.

"I'm gonna stick your face in the mud so hard, Dezzie, you'll be swatting flies for years," I retort, purposely using her least favorite nickname. She grimaces at the sound of it.

"Okay, girls," the announcer's voice booms, echoing around the stadium. "Get in starting stances."

I take a deep breath, then bend my knees, steadying my feet in the moist dirt.

"Scared, Frank?"

"Shut up."

I tighten the straps on my guarding and run my fingers through my sleek, black hair a couple times. My face must be red from the heat, but I ignore. You can do this. Just focus.

"Now remember, girls," the announcer says. "Whoever wins goes on into this world with glory and a promising future. And whoever loses, well, we all know what happens to losers."

A bit of laughter ripples through the crowd. I smile as I hear the crowd chanting my name. Frank, Frank, Frank. It's pretty much become my nickname since I reached fighting school, since no one wanted to take the time to say two syllables. That's why most people have a one syllable version of their name that everyone calls them. The only exception is my best friend Exodus, and that's because nobody wants to mess with her. Once someone tried to call her Ex, and let's just say they no longer have possession of their left arm.

Most of the students are on my side, but I spot a small group holding a sign that says Bow Down To The Dezzinator.

"Ready?" The announcer questions, though he doesn't really care if we're ready or not. "Go!"

The crowd erupts into cheering as Des and I begin to circle. My eyes narrow and I focus all my attention to the battle. I have to win. I am going to win.

Des lunges, and I easily doge. It's tradition that each opponent lunges at the other before the first punch is thrown, and I follow suit. Des steps to the side, then brings her first down on my back.

The fight has begun.

I throw an uppercut and my fist connects with her chin. She cries out, staggering backward. I kick high, knocking her onto her back. She quickly stands back up, readying herself for the next attack.

Des lunges again, and this time I leap backward. I hear a low growl escape her throat as she throws a punch. This time it hits me in the stomach, and I fall back, taken over by her immense weight. The girl grins, then spits on the ground beside her. She takes a step forward, and I scramble back. She suddenly leaps towards me and I move to the side just in time. Des lands flat on her face.

I laugh out loud and the crowd joins me. Des slowly stands back up, a grimace etched deep into her face. She narrows her eyes at me, and I can see the hatred burning in them.

I sneer, egging her on. "You got nothing, Des."

She growls again, and swings her huge fist at me, but this time I'm ready. I grab her arm and flip her over my shoulder, depositing her in the moist dirt. The crowd cheers loudly, and I kick Des one last time, even though I've already won. "That's right, Deschutes Cross," I whisper in her ear. "You lose."

I stand up straight and raise my head, letting all the glory come down upon me. My friends are on their feet, yelling as loud as they can, along with many other students."I believe we have a winner!" The man announces. "Cammile Frank of Class 24, will you please come to the podium."

Smiling widely, I slowly cross the arena to the staircase leading to the podium. The crowd cheers as I climb the steps, and confetti rains down on and around me. Two of the school staff run up to me carrying a medal. They raise it over my head and let it rest on my neck. The gold metal glints in the sun.I raise my hands in the air.

It's official. I'm the best.