Atrophy

Chapter 1

The mayor didn't like getting his hands dirty.

He much preferred to stand back and let his mercenaries spill the blood, leaving him clean and free of any blame. Not that anyone was brave enough to criticize his rule: it was a well known fact that everyone with power in Arkhem was a spineless coward.

No, Elias Kronin wasn't someone who liked stains on his facade.

Charisma was his weapon, whatever he said sounded engaging, any words that left his mouth were like a free chest of jewels or bag of golden Gambols. Not that anything he ever did was as good as he made it first seem. He was a murderer, he was the reason for thousands of deaths in Lowhaven, and even though he pretended he was innocent and that he wasn't the one who actually dealt the killing blow, everyone - including him - knew the truth.

The decrees he had brought in, the rules punishable by death, had ripped apart families, destroyed lives and shattered all dreams of hope. Lowhaven was living on scraps, barely alive, whilst he ate extravagantly and bathed in lavender and rose petals.

Elias didn't care though. As long as the slaves completed their work ahead of time, he was laughing. Life for him was perfect, and no whining peasant from down south was ever going to change that.

Better still, the population in Lowhaven was booming, meaning that his Regime was growing stronger and stronger.

All children were owned by him. At birth they were taken from their mothers and thrown into institutes where they were to remain until the age of ten. By that time they were old enough to work, work until they died.

That was the circle of life in Lowhaven, and the mayor found it funny.

They were flies that could be crushed merely by his pinkie. One small jab and they were broken beyond repair. That's why he had to have so many. They were so fragile, they just kept dying and had to be replaced.

The people down south should've been thankful that he was keeping them alive at all. If he didn't need all the money the slaves brought in for Highhaven, then he would blow the inhabitants to little pieces.

No one really understood how hard it was to be the mayor of Arkhem, a stand in whilst the real leader was sick. Not that he could ever be cured, as the rightful ruler was suffering something truly terminal. Old age.

Ninety eight years ago, Romulus Arkhem was born: a direct descendant of the first family to live and create the great land. Elias never liked Romulus because of his feeble attempts at control and his weak, impractical rules.

How can you command without discipline? He would find himself asking silently, during what he liked to call the abhorrent days. Worst of all, the people loved him. Leaders were supposed to be feared, not adored, as that just led to disorder and chaos.

So when he finally had collapsed under the pressure, Elias was ecstatic. No longer would there be disarray in Lowhaven, and finally he could unleash the despair that this land needed so badly.

This had been going on now for three years, and Romulus Arkhem had yet to die. Elias had him locked up in his house, safe but not free, so that he would be unable to cause any trouble or problems. Although, him being alive was a major complication in its self, one that couldn't be solved by simply killing him off.

No, if he was going to be disposed off, then they mayor would have to be much more discreet about it.

Perhaps a crazed peasant or murderous lowlife who 'attacked' the old man for no apparent reason. Anyone would do or become anything if he paid them enough, even if the end result was them being locked up and killed themselves. Torture and blackmail worked just as well too when getting people to do his cruel tasks.

He usually went with the latter decision. It gave him more pleasure and amusement.

'Killing two birds with one stone' was a phrase he liked to use in such situations. Not only would the miserable leader of Arkhem be dead, but so would some penniless freak that ate his food and gave barely anything back in return.

That's where Zachary Torino, the head mercenary and his right hand man, came in handy. Bloodshed and slaughter was his idea of fun, and two of his favourite things to pass the time.

Elias didn't know much about him, just that he was twenty six and had been born in Lowhaven. His rich dad had taken him away from the cesspit that was the south and raised him to be a mercenary, a chance that very few kids were lucky enough to have. Now-a-days, children weren't allowed to be transferred from Lowhaven to Highhaven without paying a major fee, as Elias had made a rule against it. He needed slaves more than he need snobs.

But Zachary was loyal, and that was one thing the major did like, so he didn't mind. As long as that was all he'd done wrong. Ruthless killers were hard to come by, especially ones who didn't mind being paid so little.

Elia's own childhood was decent, but he never truly felt like he belonged. His parents were typical Romulus Arkhem devotees, and for that he loathed them. They were pathetic, in his opinion, for supporting a leader who believed the underprivileged needed his and the rest of Highhaven's aid. Why should his wealth benefit them when it belonged to him?

A private tutor had taught him everyday until he was sixteen, and from him he learned all the basic knowledge he needed in life to succeed, and then improved it over the years to the finest standard. He excelled at all subjects, and all languages, but particularly enjoyed speaking.

His teacher was harsh but smart, and knew that Elias's silver tongue would get him very far in life. It was from him, Axel Maddison, Elias got his allure when conversing from, and it was him that he owed it all to.

Elias ordered his execution a few weeks into his rule, because he knew he was much too compelling and dangerous to be left breathing: slaying him was the most advantageous and the only option to choose. The mayor didn't think twice about his mentor dying, and didn't worry about it anymore then he did when picking what would be on his five course dinner menu.

The closest emotion to caring expressed by him was when he was with his nephew, Kingston.

Kingston's mum had died in childbirth, so Elias had taken him under his wing and reared him to be his protegee from a very early age. He was extremely confident that once King had reached a mature age, he would be good enough to take over once he was gone, and continue the great family name.

King, he believed, was just as cunning as him, and perfectly capable of maintaining the same level of fear that he gave to his people. Arkhem would be left in good hands.

Old Romulus had-had a daughter, Maria, who it seemed had managed to capture more hearts then her father. Even Elias was enchanted by her, like everyone else, but when she rejected him, he was furious. He hadn't even bothered to make her death look like an accident.

No one dared defy him, so why bother making up some far fetched story? The mayor would wonder.

Everyone knew the facts, and it only made them dread him more. A bonus you could say.

No other woman would ever come close to winning his affections after Maria, but boy did they try. They all thought if he loved again, he would be fairer and kinder. His mercenaries had put a stop to that for him.

He was broken, but not because he had killed her, but because she had denied him. Him! He had it all: money, power, intelligence. So why had she said no? 

Elias could only ask, never know. Yet he would survive without her, he perceived, easily. Come to think of it, she could've become an obstacle in his way to ultimate glory. Her being gone might've been the best thing that would ever happen to him.

And so from then on, he didn't stop for anyone else, or anything else. The world was his to conquer.

And his alone.

This is my first chapter, I hope you like it. It's not really part of the story, but it kinda sets the scene, and tells you about Arkhem from the Mayor's P.O.V.

I'm sorry about any punctuation or spelling errors, please feel free to correct me if you think there are any that spell check got wrong! :) x