“Men! The time has come!”

With that wicked grin still playing on his lips and his frighteningly white pupils gleaming with a mixture of malice and excitement, he stood before his gang of mischievous bandits who had gathered around a flickering fire in the hideout where they were.

Only heaven could guess how he managed to gather such a large group of rascally young men with seemingly no aim in life but to cause havoc and chaos, but he had. And in all these months of preparation, he had trained them as soldiers ready to cause mayhem of epic proportions. Being roguish and unruly in nature, they adapted quickly to his ways, and in no time flat, were ready to do whatever he demanded of them without blinking an eyelid.

Rubbing his hands together with glee while he faced them, he nodded. “So, my fellow shadows of the night,” his voice, as sharp as a dagger, cut through the darkness, “in the next couple of minutes, we will be paying a visit to the unsuspecting village of Mandeland. A quiet little village, so cute and tiddly-widdly, brimming with innocence and ignorance and sheer stupidity.”

The bandits guffawed at his sarcastic mention of the word ‘tiddly-widdly’.

“Honestly, my men, these people are as stupid as it gets. From the king to the baker to the lowest man on the street, they’re all a stupid little bunch of beings. All about love and togetherness and niceness and happiness and all that rubbish.”

A number of them shook their heads in disapproval, their disgust as palpable on their faces as it was in his speech.

“So, as we make our way there, remember this: we’ve got one job to do. And it’s simple…”

He paused, savoring the tension in the air as his gang of bandits leaned in, eager to hear their leader’s wicked plans…

“We unleash misery upon that pathetic little village!”

The bandits cheered joyfully. Nothing excited these rough scoundrels more than the promise of wickedness and the thrill of causing harm.

“They will be weary after all this partying and jubilation nonsense,” he continued, a hint of madness dancing about in his eyes. “When the time is due, we shall descend upon them like a swarm of vengeful spirits. We will topple their king, set their fields ablaze, and turn their very dreams into nightmares! By the time we are done with them, they will wish their sappy little village never even existed!”

A chorus of chilling laughter erupted from the bandits, their creepy sounds echoing through the woods.

“So, remember how it goes. We head for the palace, slice down everyone that gets in our way, and use the night to prepare for dealing with the locals in the morning. Understood?”

The men all nodded obediently.

“And one last thing. Show no mercy! No man, no woman, no child and no animal should be spared in any way. Got that?”

They all grinned and nodded.

He grinned back. No doubt, these men were not going to disappoint him. They’d dish out the punishment he expected them to.

“Perfect. Bikama! Munito! Soayi! Sakisor!”

The men who responded to those names stepped forward. They were all bearded bald men, with smiles just as malevolent as the one before them.

He nodded at them. “I believe it’s time now. Time for the games to begin.”

They nodded back. “Yes, Lord Dreck,” they all chorused. “The time is now.”

***

It was 11:11 p.m.

The gates of Mandeland were shut and locked as expected, and the guards, overcome with exhaustion from the day’s events, had dozed off.

Silently and with incredible precision, the army of Dreck moved closer and closer to the gates. Leading the way, while closely followed by his immediate subordinates, he raised a hand, signaling for those behind him to get ready to commence. With the utmost stealth, they closed the distance between themselves and the dozing guards.

Standing at the very entrance, Dreck stared at the two men slumbering and scoffed silently to himself. “Looks like you two guardians took your duty a bit too lightly,” he sneered. “Not that I care. Mandeland is ours now.”

He gave a single nod, and the bandits immediately sprang into action.

One bandit swiftly covered the mouth of one guard with a cloth soaked in a poisonous potion, causing him to slump to the ground. Another bandit swiftly pulled out a dagger and drove it into the heart of the other guard before he could even react.

As both men fell to the ground, the last breaths of life departing from them, Dreck reached down and grabbed the keys, quickly unlocking the gate and pushing it open.

That evil grin spread across his face once again.

“Let the games begin.”

***

With a thunderous crash, Dreck’s troops burst through the gates of the palace, their swords and spears gleaming ominously in the pale moonlight. The unsuspecting guards barely had time to react, and were easily overwhelmed by the hungrier and far more aggressive bandits.

Swords clashed, arrows whistled through the air, and the battle for Mandeland had begun.

Unfortunately, this battle was more one-sided than one would have hoped. Just as Dreck had anticipated, they were all on a high after a wonderful Ashrei celebration and were not expecting an attack this deadly and ruthless. The guards fought valiantly, but they were easily outmatched. Arrows flew from Dreck’s archers, finding their marks with deadly accuracy and felling men in seconds. The clash of steel on steel and the cries of the wounded filled the palace.

From an aura of joy and euphoria to an atmosphere of evil and death.

As he sliced through one guard with ease, Dreck called out as he headed for the staircase, “Soayi! Bikama! Come with me!”

The two men quickly followed after their master.

His eyes glinted with triumph as he ascended the grand staircase leading to the royal bedrooms, where the final confrontation with the royal family awaited. Just what I’ve been waiting to do all these years…

The door burst open, and Dreck stepped in to find the king and queen on their bed, worry etched on their faces as they obviously heard the noises outside and wondered what was going on.

That worry turned to abject horror the moment they saw him.

“What the… Dreck??!!” King Karomo gasped.

Dreck’s eyes bore into them with malevolent glee. “King Karomo and Queen Marenah,” he sneered, “your reign has come to an end.”

Before they could utter another word, he pointed to them. “Seize them! And take them to the dungeon!”

Karomo and Marenah were grabbed by the merciless hands of Soayi and Bikama, their attempts at resistance futile.

Chika burst into the room just as the two were dragging the royal couple away. His eyes widened in horror at what was transpiring before him.

“No, Chika, run away!” Queen Marenah screamed.

Before he could step out to safety, however, Dreck had pounced upon him, his iron grip digging deep into the young man’s skin.

“Aaaaargghhh! Let me go! Let me go!” Chika raged, trying his best to free himself from this hurtful grip.

Dreck’s sadistic smile returned. “Not when you can have the privilege of joining your beloved mommy and daddy in the dungeon,” he smirked.

The three wicked men dragged their struggling but helpless victims to the dungeon a few doors away from the royal bedroom. It was unlocked, so Dreck simply kicked the door open, tossed Chika inside, and stood back as Soayi and Bikama did likewise to the royal couple.

He nodded at his men. “Join the others downstairs. Make sure they’ve killed every single guard. It’s time for me to put the icing on the cake.”

Understanding him perfectly, they nodded with evil smirks and stepped out.

He then turned to the family trembling before him. “Well, well, well,” he hissed, his voice dripping with malice. “The great King Kamoro. He who sits on the pretty little throne, brought to his knees. How the mighty have fallen.”

The three simply sat there, terrified to the core. Who would have thought that this man would actually be here? Who would have pictured this scenario?

None of them, that’s for sure.

“The happy little king. Son of Balathu. Advocate for all that is good and kind and pleasant and sweet. Ha! Good gracious, you make me sick! You don’t know how much I’ve been longing for this. Oh, I have. I really have.”

Dreck drew out his bloodied sword, and the family before him grew pale with terror.

“And now that I have it, I’m not letting it go,” he hissed, raising it slowly.

 “Please, Dreck, please!” Queen Marenah screamed, “Do whatever you want, but please, spare our son. He’s just a young boy!”

Dreck snickered. “Spare him? Oh, my dear queen, you misunderstand me entirely. I have no intention of sparing him.”

Chika clung to his mother, tears streaming down his face as the sudden, horrid reality of death dawned upon him. “Please, please don’t hurt me. I beg you, please, don’t hurt me,” he whimpered.

Dreck took a step forward. “Hurt you?” he mused, savoring the moment. “Oh no, my dear prince, I have something far more…delightful in mind, you know… something a bit more of a… what’s the term for it… oh yes, a slow burn. And you know what that means?”

The family was simply too petrified to answer.

“It means, dear little Chika, I intend to make you watch as I take your mommy and daddy’s lives first, as swiftly as possible, before I turn my attention to you.”

He readied himself and lifted his sword.

“No, Dreck, please!”

The sound of a slicing blade followed.

Cries and screams of horror and despair echoed through the dungeon.

They were swiftly followed by another blade-slicing sound.

The screams came from the throat of one person.

Another sound of a slicing blade…

… and there was silence.

Goodness! This Dreck guy is clearly evil. Mandeland is in serious trouble right now…