The Grim Reaper Days: The Four Courts

You're Boring Me to Death

"Ok welcome the U.S History ," the old professor said as he slowly limped to his desk with aid from his cane. As he sat down he squinted to see the students who had placed themselves in the front of the room, there weren't many people there that day, from what the professor had overheard from the girls whispering rather loudly at their desks most of the students had a rather late night and were sleeping it off.

"I know most of you are going to become doctors or programmers of tomorrow ," his voice was scratchy and worn like an old record , it was hard to listen to without dreading the next words to come out of his chapped lips, "but you still have to take this class as a credit to become those neurosurgeons and nurses." He looked around the large room again still unable to see anyone past the blurry figures in the first row even with his glasses on, "Since most of you here are Seniors you already know the drill." Licking his lips he took a bottle of water which shook in old wrinkled hands, he was thirsty that day, his chest and arm hurt-even walking seemed to be more difficult then it already was, "I'm Professor-"

"Sorry I'm late Professor," yelled a voice from the way back.

"Mr. Kingston," the professor said slightly agitated, "what is your excuse this time?"

"Well my friend—he, uh—"

"Never mind Mr. Kingston," he sighed, "I have a feeling I don't need or want to know what happened to your friend today." Knowing what he had heard before that that young man's mouth in class, what he and his friend do can stay between them.

"Ok Professor Lano," he said, clearly hinting at another name he called the old man behind his back.

"Professor Lanosten," corrected the old man.

The student chuckled to himself as he plopped himself down in the furthest seat possible away from the teacher, clearing his throat the professor continued, "Let's begin, shall we?" Several people took out their phones, a few placed their laptops on the on the desk in front of them. Others put headphones in their ears and leaned back in their chairs and closed their eyes as the professor launched into their lesson.

"You should pay attention," said a soft voice next to the dark haired man, "I have a feeling you aren't passing this class with flying colors."

Trey Kingston was slightly surprised, nobody that wasn't a girl or one of his frat buddies sat with him. But this man, he wasn't scared or even threatened by Trey's presence, "Well who asked you?"

"No one," Lucius said as he said down, he was dressed in mostly black, casual clothing and tennis shoes, "but I wasn't aware I had to ask." He took out a single notebook and pencil, "besides I wasn't asking you anything, I was simply observing."

"Whatever," Trey dismissed, what a weird man. Who talks that formally anymore anyway? They aren't in the medieval times any more, and who is he anyway? From just seeing him he could see how uncomfortable the man was with social things, his brown eyes looked around constantly trying to pick up on clues of what to say and his ears open to all conversation around him.

"I'm Lucius," the half disguised Grim Reaper said as he began to write some words on the paper but he kept looking at the man curiously, almost amused, "you?"

"Trey Kingston," the young man said. His dark blonde hair fell on his dark ember eyes and his nimble fingers brushed the strands behind his ears, but callused by an instrument, strings-most likely guitar or violin.

Lucius didn't further the conversation, he may have not been around humans for a very long time but he knew when his input wasn't desired. The Representatives of the Courts were more like humans then they wanted to be. They wanted power, they wanted to be adored, and they were stubborn and refused to change or accept any reality that wasn't their own. That is what confused Lucius the most, they're all the same. Same species just different places, yet they treat everyone as if their inferior. They choose labels to identify what is normal, they fight over stupid pieces of dirt, and kill each other because one's opinion is different then theirs. Others choose to bring one person down because of how they dress or what they do for fun.