Scorpio.

I was created in a lab. So my father says. He said that he created me on a mountaintop in a shack using twenty zx spectrum computers, a 3D printer hooked up to the Pentagon with a modem, some C4 plastic explosive, bolts, a pile of old body building magazines, some Kerrangs, a petrol generator, a black widow catapult, various knives, an aluminium baseball bat, various animal skulls sourced locally, and some pink silicon synthetic skin for burn victims.

Marry all this to a huge bolt of lightning that arrived on time. Et voila. I was born.

My father named.me Scorpio after the villain in Dirty Harry. When I asked him why? He said because he was a visionary with an eye for detail. Laughing so much he fell over. I watched the film once on an old vhs tape. Turns out Scorpio was a crazed sniper. I dont remember my childhood. I seem to have sprung forth on to planet earth fully formed. My father asked me on the day that I was born what I wanted to do with my life? I said eat, sleep, stay out of the rain. Nothing much has changed. Most of the world including my dad was wiped out about five years ago, by a virus. They say it was spread by grey squirrels. An invasive species. That's why I kill them. Without mercy. Ten tails gets me a bag of groceries from the post office. It's a government initiative to stop us hunting down people. Bread and circuses. Same as always. I dont talk to people much apart from the old lady down the post office. She always asks me the same thing. Where are you going? 

Now that there are no legal travel companies and we live on an island. I tell her. When my gliders finished I'm going to France. I've been learning the language from some old books I found. The pages got damp once and they are yellow and wrinkly. What you might call weatherbeaten. My main fear now is a wild gang of urban killers burning my glider and me to death when I'm asleep inside. Out of spite. Because they never had a dream. I sometimes see them out on the road wearing womens clothes. All races mixed together. Carrying guns, clubs, machetes. Riding motorcycles, bmxs, sometimes in cars. High on mountain dew. They get turps or white spirit and put orange juice in it. It makes them crazy. They kill without any comebacks. Unless they kill the wrong person who has too many sons. Then there's a blood feud. If they were all killed tomorrow I wouldn't give a fuck. Animals are better. I only drink water purified by fire at my place. I eat nettles, grass, and any meat that I can find. Except squirrels. It wouldnt matter if I saw one fried in garlic and fresh basil when I'm starving. Squirrel killed my creator.

Maybe it was that way once.for the desert tribes who refuse to eat pork. I dont know.