The early morning air in Mandeland was still and cool, the sun just beginning to cast a faint glow on the horizon.

Billa lay in his comfy bed, wrapped up in his thick blankets, the aura of euphoria still palpable even as he slumbered peacefully. Like him, many other villagers were still nestled in their beds, their dreams untouched by the grim reality that had befallen their village.

As the palace was nearer to the outskirts of the village and quite a distance away from the main places of habitation, the awful coup was virtually unheard by many of the villagers. They had no idea that the king they adored and cherished so much had been taken down by a psychopath who lived and breathed evil.

They were about to find out, though. In the most unpleasant fashion possible.

***

“People of Mandeland! Gather before the palace immediately!”

From the moment Sakisor’s voice ripped through the air with that unfriendly demand, the atmosphere was never the same.

Many villagers woke up to these harsh commands, stepping out of their houses and wondering what was going on. Once they did, they were met by very hostile-looking men who brandished swords and daggers, ordering them to move to the palace immediately. Questions were met with nasty responses, and in some instances, slaps.

Everyone was confused. Who were these men? Why had they taken over the town? What was King Karomo doing?

Just as Billa and his family were wondering what was going on, their front door was kicked open, and in stepped one bandit, dressed in a tattered black shirt and dirty trousers.

“Awake! Awake, all of you!” he yelled, his voice harsh and unforgiving. “Gather in the square before the palace immediately!”

Ubar and Tabani quickly rushed to the living room and saw him standing there, with a quiver slung behind his back and a bow in his hands. “Move!’ he yelled once again, as Billa and Diyaka entered. “Stop wasting time and get to the palace now!”

In spite of the armour the man obviously possessed, Ubar was not amused at all. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded. “How can you just barge into my house and-“
 

“Shut up and get moving! Now!” the bandit cut him short.

Getting even more heated, Ubar yelled back, “You don’t have the right to tell me to shut up!”

As he ended his yell, however, he sucked his breath in as the bandit suddenly had his bow in place, placing an arrow in between in no time.

Everybody shrieked in fright as he pulled back and let the arrow fly.

Straight into the window nearby.

The sound of breaking glass followed. They all looked and saw the destroyed window.

“One more word of dissent from you, and the next arrow’s going through your head, do you understand? Now shut up and get to the palace! Now!”

Everyone in the house now stunned into fearful obeisance, they quickly moved out of the door, receiving a number of slaps from the bandit as they passed by him.

Stepping out into the open, they saw the other villagers. Just as confused as they were. They also saw the other bandits roaring at the villagers to move.

“What in the world is going on? How’s this happening?” Billa wondered aloud.

“I wonder too, brother,” Diyaka said, lines of concern forming on his forehead. “This is too strange.”

***

When they arrived at the palace, many other villagers were there. And it was clear that confusion reigned supreme among them. Whispered questions hung in the air, creating an obvious sense of unease. Parents tried to soothe crying children, assuring them that everything would be alright, though the uncertainty in their own voices betrayed their anxiety.

In all their years, nothing like this had ever happened. The villagers had heard tales of bandits and marauders in distant lands, but had never experienced anything like this. And as they stood at the courtyard where they had been assembled, they could only wonder what had happened, and what they had done to the royal family.

Maybe they were holding him to ransom for some riches or something.

As the murmurs continued and the confusion kept on making its presence palpable, a voice rang out.

“Silence! Your Lord is coming!”

Everyone grew silent and instantly even more befuddled.

Lord?

What in heavens was going on? King Karomo was not referred to as Lord. What was…

It started to dawn on them.

Was… was this a coup? Had King Karomo been overthrown? What was happening??

The door to the palace opened…

… and out stepped a man, dressed in the robe of the king.

Everyone gasped in shock at the one who stood before them, proudly donning their king’s coat and mantle of authority.

Dreck.

He stood before them, his eyes full of malevolence as always. Unamused by the growing noise before him, he yelled, “Listen up, you pitiful little souls of Mandeland! Hear and heed my words, for I am your new lord and your new supreme ruler!”

The people simply stood there in shock, not knowing what to say or believe.

He continued. “Your pathetic little king and his feeble family are no more. They lie in the depths of despair, their reign ended by the fiery wrath that courses through my veins.”

That was it. The confirmation of the worst news to ever hit Mandeland.

Their precious king was dead, along with his wife and son.

No! it couldn’t be! It just couldn’t be! Their beloved monarch couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t!

A collective wail rose among the people, the pain of grief striking them like a bolt of lightning.

“SILENCE!”

Dreck’s furious roar cut their cries short.

“Fools! I didn’t call you here to enact a funeral for the pipsqueaks!” he yelled angrily. “Nobody make a sound about them, or I will have your throat slit instantly!”

A dead silence spread across the crowd before him. The presence of heavily-armed bandits could not be ignored. One order, and he’d most certainly order them to wreak havoc on them.

“Listen to me, you insignificant dimwits! The old order has fallen, and a new era dawns in Mandeland!” he hissed, his words dripping with venom. “From now onwards, I am Lord Dreck. You will bow to me, and you will honor me above all else. I expect your loyalty and obedience at all times. Any defiance of any kind will be met with swift and harsh punishment. Do you understand me?” 

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd, but fear kept them rooted in place. They exchanged terrified glances, knowing that defiance meant certain death.

“You may have killed the king, but you will never be our lord!”

Everyone turned in the direction of that voice.

It was Mr. Azibo who roared, an angry defiant look on his face. He did not seem impressed or intimidated by Dreck at all, and was making it clear.

“You’re nothing but a coward! You’ll never be our lord!” he continued to bellow furiously. A couple of young men near him, invigorated by this fearless response, joined in the chant, raining abuse upon Dreck with a fury.

It wasn’t long, however, before some of the bandits swooped in on them and wrestled them down, overpowering them too easily.

Dreck narrowed his eyes and glared at them. Then he shook his head and sniggered. He snapped his fingers. “Bring those pieces of trash over here!” he ordered.

The bandits obediently dragged Mr. Azibo and the others to the front, where Dreck stood. They made these dissidents kneel down before him. He glared at them before turning to the people, who had their hearts in their mouths, terrified at what would happen next.

“Disobedience will not be tolerated,” he continued, his voice growing even more menacing. “As I said, as your lord, I demand absolute obedience and unwavering loyalty. Cross me, and you will face consequences beyond your darkest nightmares. Like this.”

Suddenly, he whipped out a karambit knife from his side, and drove it right into the eye of Azibo.

Both the screams of Mr. Azibo and many from the crowd were loud enough to blow out one’s eardrum.

What followed was a most horrendous bloodbath, as Dreck was joined by Soayi and another bandit to relentlessly and ruthlessly cut them down to death. It was the most horrific sight any of the villagers could have ever witnessed with their own eyes. Absolute callousness, the way Dreck stabbed the elderly man in the neck multiple times before throwing his lifeless body down.

“WHO WANTS TO CHALLENGE MY AUTHORITY?” Dreck roared, his eyes blazing with madness once the massacre was over. “WHO WANTS TO TAKE ME ON? COME ON, SHOW YOURSELF! TRY ME!”

Once again, an aura of hushed silence fell over the people. His threats had been terrifying enough, but now they had seen him in action, and it wasn’t pleasant to the eyes at all.

He stared at them with scorn. “I didn’t think so. Idiots. Listen up! These are my elders. Bikama, Munito, Saiksor and Soayi. They will be my eyes and ears around these streets, so better start discarding your plans of trying to overthrow me. They’ll be at your door and crush your throats faster than you can say ‘takeover’…”

As Dreck outlined the new rules for the people of Mandeland, Billa looked at his brother.

Diyaka looked back at him.

The look in their eyes conveyed the same feeling.

Terror.

How did this happen? Only twenty-four hours ago, they were gearing up for their favourite time of the year, ready to sing, dance, eat and be joyful with their people. Now, before them stood a psychotic, evil man who had slain their beloved monarchs and crowned himself king, and was promising an iron fist rule.

They could not for the life of them understand how this had transpired, but with everything ongoing before their eyes, there was one unfortunate fact they could understand.

Their once-peaceful village had just plunged into a real-life nightmare, from which there seemed to be no escape.

This is not good. Not good at all. Mandeland is in big trouble with this creep ruling over them…