Page 1 of Born Savage

PROLOGUE

“When enough people come together, then change will come and we can achieve almost anything. So instead of looking for hope—start creating it.”

—Greta Thunberg

Freedom City, Zenith

June 2093

Rage

I turned in a full circle, almost completely unaware of the crowd roaring in appreciation of the event about to unfold. The people living in the domed city hadn’t been allowed to choose whether to be in attendance. Being here had been mandated as was every other aspect of their worthless lives.

They were no more free than anyone living outside the protected walls made of steel and heat-resistant armored glass shielding the inhabitants from nuclear rain and vicious predators knocking on their doors.

At least I had the freedom to choose who and what I believed in. That didn’t include a brutal king using violence and threats to keep his flock under control.

I took a deep breath, eyeing the master of ceremonies, the king himself. Along with his wife, the queen and his children. They had the best seat in the house. Although I had to believe the prisoners peering down from the hundreds of glass-fronted cells in the round colosseum would argue theirs was even better.

They had a front row seat to every bloody battle held under the guise of gifting freedom, the games their only real entertainment allowed during their incarceration. But soon, if they were lucky, they’d be invited to participate in the highly coveted game called Exile.

A battle to the death, winner takes all. That was if you believed being tossed beyond the gates of protection, forced to fend for your life against radiation-damaged humans and genetically altered beasts was winning.

While I hadn’t become a prisoner by choice but by demand, I had no intention of losing nor did I care about what occurred after the battle was won.

The only thing that mattered was getting close to the king, his nod of approval in personally releasing the thick steel collar around the winner’s neck legendary.

It was as close to being alone with the man as anyone other than those closest to him would ever achieve.

The inmates were already pounding on the glass, the noise level in the arena creating an intense environment.

Mine was merely the first fight of the day, the two men captured with me waiting for their turn in the hallowed light. My soldiers, men I could trust implicitly. Men who would never consider betraying one of their own. Their appearance would come into play only minutes from now.

I took another turn riling the audience, coming to a halt directly in front of the king’s royal throne. With a nod of respect that wasn’t real, I threw up my arms to entice the crowd while staring the man in the eyes. In my hands were weapons: one sword, one club. They were the all the weapons I needed.

He was heartless, cold and cruel, enjoying the act of torture more than that of death itself. While he was indeed powerful, the years of building an army of monstrous men keeping him and his family completely protected, I was a dangerous killer disguised as nothing but a soulless beggar.

The king’s eyes lit up and he stood, taking a deep breath while scanning the crowd. So pleased with himself and the kingdom he’d created on the backs of those before him, their blood a river of deceit.

With a single nod, the two barbarians chosen for exterminating me advanced. They were true Savages, their DNA altered to make them killing machines.

However, I knew their weaknesses.

The fuckers didn’t stand a chance.

I waited where I was, staring into the eyes of the king until very slowly, the corners of my lip upturned in defiance. His stare was equally harsh and when I stood much taller than his five-foot ten-inch frame, I could see the first glint of fear in his black eyes.

Good. He should fear me and all those who stood in opposition of his tyranny.

The Savages were only feet away when I finally turned, wasting no time swinging both weapons. Swing after swing, I purposely barely nicked either one, offering them comfort they were about to win.

I did wonder what their prize would be should they best one of their own. But did they know I’d been created in their likeness, only more capable than they could understand?

“Ooohhh!” the crowd jeered when I was knocked down, some on their feet so they wouldn’t miss the crowning blows.

Only I had no intention of staying down long. As soon as they were close, I struck both, spearing the gut of one while bashing the head of the other. Blood splattered across my face, warm and inviting, the stench of copper igniting the fire deep within.

The game was all but over. I yanked out the sword, the Savage stumbling backward as the other struggled to his feet. I lifted the blade high in the air, taking another few seconds to enjoy the view of the monsters clawing at the glass. Then I brought the sword down, chopping off an arm. Then a leg.