[REDACTED] Wu

Several years ago ...

The wardens salute me as I walk past them to the exercise hall. Ever since the atmosphere started becoming toxic again, the facility needed to start holding morning assemblies indoors. Just another day in our godless world. Unfortunately, there have been so many who see the environmental deterioration as a kind of sign, causing an uptick in the number of students being sent to me. My response to the new students could be summed up as 'consequences are not causation', but logic has never been the strong point of people who actually ally themselves with a wholly malicious entity against their fellow man.

Which is why sterner forms of education have been needed to be deployed to set these recalcitrants straight.

"Another bus of Class C students have arrived Commandant." the warden at the entrance of the exercise hall tells me, "We're ready to begin the introductory session whenever you are ready."

"Wonderful." I grumble, "Why do we keep getting the problem cases?"

"Probably because of your good record?" the warden says, "We've the most number of recantations among all the schools worldwide. A victim of our success I would say."

"Well, nothing for it I suppose." I huff, "Let's keep working hard, eh?"

"Of course, Commandant." the warden agrees, "And on that note ..."

"Its Arsenio again isn't it?" I question, "I swear, that man seems to live just for the sake of causing trouble."

"We heard about him preaching to some of the students during yesterday's recess." the warden tells me, "Send him for administrative processing I suppose?"

I think for a moment before making my decision, "Let him attend the morning assembly. Arsenio generally serves as a good introduction to the other Class C students about what is expected of them."

"Right you are Commandant." the warden affirms agreeably and holds the door open for me.

I thank the man and stride into the hall with no further ceremony. Climbing the stage where a podium has been prepared, I take note of the neatly assembled rows of men and women facing me. A solid block of these students still bear heads full of hair. Those must be the new intake then, fresh of the bus. The wardens haven't had time to give them the mandatory shaving yet. I don't like rushing things, especially an act of such symbolic importance. After all, proper actions encourage proper thought. But we'll make do, as always.

"Greetings everyone." I speak into the microphone that had been set up for me, "It looks like today we have a fresh set of students joining us."

There are glares of defiance from the incoming batch of Class C students. That's to be expected. Troublemakers, the lot of them. But that's why they've been sent here into my care. To learn the error of their ways and to emerge from this experience as better people.

"Now, I suppose you all know why you're here." I continue my introductory speech, "But in case anyone forgot, its because all of you are sick. All of you need help."

"You're the one who's sick, bastard!" one of the new students shouts defiantly. The rest of the fresh intake tenses, waiting for an explosion of rage from me or the wardens, but nothing happens. Just an aura of calm that pervades the entire hall. Everyone here other than the freshers has seen this show play out umpteen times. These displays of mental illness on the part of the new intake is really very old hat.

"Now, you new students still think that god rules this world, or has a right to rule this world." I keep speaking, my tone level and firm, "I recognize that as a matter of faith, all of you would reject whatever I would say on the subject."

"Damn straight!" another voice from the new intake yells in challenge back at me.

"And that's fine." I affirm, "Because at this school, we deal in facts. We will prove to all of you that god no longer has a place in this world. Prove it beyond any reasonable doubt."

"Infidel!" another student shouts, "Save your lies!"

"Oh no, its no lie." I smile, "In fact, in fact the proof we will show all of you is indisputable. Wardens, if you may?" At my signal, the wardens begin pushing the new intake to the front of the hall, where everyone can see them.

"It had been said that god can hear prayers. That's why you lot still insist on worshiping him." I muse, "but what if that is no longer true?" There's a stunned silence from the new batch while the senior years keep their faces expressionless. They know what's coming next.

"You may begin." I instruct the wardens.

And at my signal, the wardens draw their batons and begin mercilessly beating the new students within an inch of their lives. Not too hard though. A few broken bones are fine, but we don't actually want to kill anyone. We're here to teach, not inflict unnecessary death. The students try fighting back of course, but that's almost impossible with their arms shackled together. The noise of meaty thumping resounds throughout the exercise hall as the introductory lesson gets underway. I begin the lecture.

"Number one, you will be beaten everyday." I instruct, "You will not make noise during this beating. Making noise is cause for increased rehabilitative measures."

As a dread locked man screams from being hit in the gut, the wardens grab him by the air and slam a baton straight into his jaw, sending teeth and blood flying everywhere. A particularly noisy woman is pounded flat by multiple batons until she's lying on the floor in a fetal position. The rest of the freshers quickly get the message and quieten down accordingly. As promised, baton swings slow to a regular, carefully calibrated rhythm. A harmony of thwacks if you will, rather than the cacophony that prevailed a few moments before.

"Number two, after the scheduled beating," I continue, "each of you will be granted the freedom to pray. You may pray for anything you want. To escape. For this place to be leveled in an earthquake. For my death."

There's a stifled sob from the new students as they realize the nature of the proof I was talking about. That's the beauty about dealing with indisputable facts. Everyone has to accept these facts sooner or later.

"Number three, the beatings will continue until your prayers work or you admit that god is no longer listening." I conclude, "Once you acknowledge this simple fact of life, we can move on to curing your mental illness. Any questions?"

There's a tense silence from the new students, with the only noise coming from the batons. Not a single one dares to speak. Good. They've gotten the hang of rule one already.

"You have my leave to respond." I invite my new students for their feedback.

"We're not crazy." one of them stammers, "Just because we don't think the same way as you, doesn't mean we're crazy!"

"Yes, you are crazy. Each and everyone one of you is." I inform, expecting this question, "And I'll explain why. So you understand why we do what we do."

I rub my hands together, warming to the subject, "You worship a being that wanted to destroy this world. A literal enemy of humanity. Is that not crazy?"

"It was foretold." the voice mumbles incoherently, "The world would be remade. The faithful would be saved."

"How many faithful died in the conflict?" I scoff, "And so much suffering was caused for the sake of so little. Did anyone of you care about that? Or were all of you thinking of your own salvation instead of your fellow man?"

There's no response to my question. Not that I expected any. The whole point of the lecture is to shock and awe the new students on their first day.

"If I was feeling ungenerous, I might even consider you lot traitors." I reprimand the crowd, "Traitors to your race, to your species. That makes each of you lower than a dog. And everyone knows what happens to traitors."

I spread my hands wide, encompassing the entire hall as I continue the lecture, "Now that humanity is truly free to pursue its own destiny, there are still people who oppose this by fighting for Yah. Stirring up that old conflict. And do you know what doing the same thing ad nauseam and hoping for a different result is?"

"Insanity." the seniors answer that question for me in hushed voices.

"But the Directorate has chosen to be kind, even though you might not deserve it." I conclude, "This school is your last chance. The very last chance you new students have to learn how to be human. Do you all understand?"

There's no answer this time. But I don't need one from the freshers. They understand. Everyone understands. I signal the wardens to finish today's beating and send the freshers back to their original rows. A few of them can't stand after the session and are just dragged back to their original places by the wardens and dumped in an unceremonious heap.

"And now, I would like to show everyone a real life insane person." I say, "Wardens, please bring out Student Arsenio."

A man with a shaven head is pulled out by the wardens from among the seniors and brought to the front of the hall where the freshers were a few moments ago. Tall and lanky, Arsenio carries himself with a kind of wiry strength and irredeemable stubbornness. But even someone like him can serve as an object lesson for more promising students.

"Student Arsenio insists on leading his fellows into error." I say plainly, while gazing at the man for his response.

"Don't know what you're talking about." Arsenio answers tersely. He probably thinks I have no way of proving the accusation. But the thing is, I don't need to prove anything.

Facts cannot be denied.

"Is that so?" I raise an eyebrow, "Does anyone know what I'm talking about?"

A man steps out from the mass of students. Then another. And another. Until a small group of fellow students are surrounding Arsenio.

"Guys, come on ..." Arsenio says plaintively, but no one bothers to look at him. Wardens begin handing out batons to the students that had so kindly pointed out Arsenio's treachery to humanity.

"And now, Student Arsenio will demonstrate the practical consequences of being insane." I nod with approval to the seniors who are well on the road to recovery.

Doing the same thing and expecting a different result? Sometimes getting through to my students can be a challenge.

But that's what remedial lessons are for, aren't they?