Carlisle stood at the podium in the front left-hand corner of the small classroom the next morning for the 8:00 Principles of Ethics and Morals discussion section. By the time the clock struck five til, two thirds of the students in the section were in attendance. They looked barely alive, but Carlisle was wide awake, organizing his notes and powerpoint presentation for the class. He was wearing a navy blue sweater, black trousers, and black leather boots with salt water stains on them from outside. He was also wearing a pair of reading glasses, rectangular ones with black half-frames.
He watched with a wide-eyed glare as Cicero entered the classroom ten seconds before the clock struck 8:00. They had their bookbag and cane and a travel mug. They were wearing a black and grey striped onesie, black converse high tops, and a burgundy beanie. The hair that made it outside of the beanie was a tangled curly mess.
When the smell of vodka hit him, Carlisle immediately knew that Cicero's travel mug was filled with it... well, it was already half empty. He watched with narrowed eyes as the reaper sat down in the front row, next to their friend, Thomas, and got out their laptop and notebook and a pencil. When the clock struck 8:00, he announced, "All right. I will go down the list and call out your name, and you will respond with 'here.'" He looked down at the slip of paper in front of him that had the list of enrolled students in the section. He went down the list until he reached Cicero. "Cecilia Stemple."
"Punctual," the reaper mumbled back with a tired grin. There were a couple of chuckles around the classroom.
"As always, I hope," Carlisle muttered bitterly, receiving more laughs from the students. Once he was done with attendance, he brought up the introduction slide on the projector. After he was done taking attendance, class began with a brief review of the week's lectures, then the remaining forty-five minutes was dedicated to notes not covered in class and new notes for the day. As always, Cicero took notes, but it felt strange to be receiving them from the demon. The way he spoke was very easy to listen to and almost soothing: accented, baritone, and lilting, raspy but in a smooth way. Whenever a student asked a question, the teacher's assistant explained everything clearly and entirely. When a student debated, Carlisle engaged enthusiastically but made sure the debate was put to rest and that the student felt they had learned something.
Cicero raised their hand when the subject of the death penalty was brought up. Carlisle stared hard at them as he pointed to them. "What makes those who condemn a murderer to the death penalty any better than the murderer himself?"
Carlisle's eyes narrowed. "Well, if you really want to get into it, subjecting a murderer to the death penalty isn't considered so much a murder itself, but the murderer repaying for his error."
"But, that just makes one more person dead," Cicero argued. "Wouldn't his life be better served in community service and reformation instead of in a grave?"
"The point of the death penalty is a life for a life," the demon explained. "It means the murderer will never kill again."
"Sure, you can argue that it's what's best for the greater community, but isn't he still a human being? Aren't we murderers if we are also humans and killing another fellow human, no matter the justification? And what about the suffering they go through if the procedure is not done correctly? How is that ethical?"
"And, that is why the death penalty is so controversial." Carlisle grinned; neither of them were humans. "That is why politicians and activists go back and forth about it so adamantly and often." He avoided saying, "That is why humans go back and forth about it so adamantly and often." "We will have a whole week to talk about it around mid semester. I look forward to hearing more from you when that time comes."
When class ended and Carlisle dismissed the students, Cicero began packing up their things. At 9:30, they had their discussion for Criminal Punishment, a great follow up for this class.
YOU ARE READING
The Necrodancer
خيال (فانتازيا){Book 1} Reapers, ghouls who collect souls for the Grim Reaper, protect humans, both dead and alive, and make sure they die when the time is right, but demons always tend to ruin their plans, so they have to make sure everything goes according to pl...