The day was reaching its brightest and the autumnal sun shined ever so brightly through a classroom window filling it with light. It is just so sad that Marty could not enjoy this fantastic weather that was quite unusual for this season as well.
"That stupid new teacher," Marty thought to himself, flipping several pages of his textbook.
The new history teacher was one of those young and idealistic teachers, the kind that believes that they can teach anything if only the pupil tries as well.
That day he decided to leave Marty for some detention, leaving him alone in the classroom for some time and locking it.
"I will be back in just an hour, learn the topic... for your own sake," the teacher said in a mysterious and husky tone that could've been heard all around the classroom even though it reminded Marty of a whisper.
"For my own sake?" Marty wondered, "What is he going to beat me or something?"
The boy kept thinking of nonsensical things instead of studying. Who could've blamed him, no one could study history during a fine day like this. The boy gave the textbook a judging glare, as if trying to decide if reading it was of any worth of his time.
"This won't do any good," he whispered to himself.
"I just won't study, that dummy can't do anything to me. He will have to let me go, he's stuck here with me as well."
Instead of studying the medieval Spain as ordered, Marty's mind slipped into the memories...
"Why would I study something as stupid as history. It already happened," Marty yelled at the teacher earlier today when asked for an answer to a question.
"Because we need to study the mistakes of the past, so that we can create a better future. Imagine if some crazy lunatic declared all Linux users heretics and burnt them alive..."
Marty laughed out mockingly. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he replied.
The teacher smiled, clearly he has predicted this argument and finished his speech, "Of course, because we know the course of history and we can stop this madness from ever happening again... Today you will learn all about this in detention," the teacher smiled as he made this condemning decision.
Marty's walk down the memory lane ended as he found a rather intriguing picture in his textbook.
The picture depicted a knight in full armor with a ridiculously large sword and shield. Marty was a rather good artist himself so he could give very detailed credit for the person who drawn this picture. The knight looked so great and mighty, almost celestial. The boy liked this picture so much, in fact, that he decided to copy it into his own sheet and since this teacher was such a dirtbag, Marty thought of drawing the glorious sir knight impaling the teacher on his amazing sword.
As the youth leaned on to his sheet and immersed fully into his work, he failed to notice how quickly the scenery outside started changing. Within about half an hour, the sun went behind the endless shrouds of clouds, dyeing the sky in gritty and Gothic shades. The boy failed to notice the modern electronic street lamps changing into old fire based torch lights and the roads becoming padded with stone mixed together in a mixture of feces and dirt instead of ones he knew made from concrete. He failed to notice the old buildings renewing and new buildings disappear into the ground. Of all the things he missed the start of a pouring rain that made all the Gothic medieval scenery of stone built homes, bridges and arcs all the more gritty and realistic.
After Marty had finished his masterpiece of art, he jumped in his chair. The boy no longer recognized anything around him. He was sitting in some sort of hall with cases filled with old books all around him. As he wondered around he realized that he couldn't recognize any of the books as the words on them were of some other language, similar to that one that is used in church songs. The boy peeked through the fancy metal worked window that definitely didn't look like the one that he left behind.
Had he just went somewhere without noticing? The boy jumped as he noticed some strange group of hooded figures outside. One of the group shouted something in a grotesque and husky tone and pointed to the window of the building that Marty was at. The young Marty's heart went straight down in fear. He wandered aimlessly around the hall, looking for a place to hide as few minutes later the doors to the hall opened, "Weren't those locked?" Marty thought.
The hooded figures burst inside as two of them caught Marty and locked his arms as one other pulled out some sort of sheet of paper and read something to him, after not getting a response, he read it several more times in different languages. One of them was ancient English.
"Thou art accused of witchcraft and Satanism! How dost thou plea?" the man grunted with the same grotesque voice as Marty noticed the figure despite looking relatively human had no teeth and it's tongue was only reminiscent of such because it was at the same place were tongue was. All of their faces were disfigured in some way, must've been some kind of disease that was rampant during those times, Marty recalled teacher talking about something like that.
"Wait, I'm no sorcerer..." the youth tried to reason but then he looked down on his fancy shoes and T-shirt that had devil on it with words Heavy Metal in something like Vladimir font written on it. Those people had all the reason in the world to consider him a witcher... Marty screamed like a girl as the men dragged him through the stone pavement. He saw some people praying or giving blessings to him, some were cursing and closing their windows but none wanted to have anything in common with a witcher therefore the streets were absolutely empty.
After being dragged to the priest, the group began the interrogation. They ripped some of his clothes off and tied all of his limbs together, spreading him wide, trying to cause as much discomfort as possible so that the heretic would talk. They could not sentence him for death if he hadn't confessed, sadly the boy didn't know that as he hasn't read a page.
In the beginning, the priest asked him some simple questions like the name of the King or the year, name of the Pope and so. Marty remained silent except for the pleads of mercy.
"The Satan is strong in thee, I cannot defeat it even in the house of Dominus," the priest shook his head.
The inquisitors cut the ropes and pulled him away. They put Marty's silence as a mean of ignorance to the Lord's power and sentenced him to some holy torture, so that his guilt can be proven as only if guilt is proven, can it be redeemed? Redeemed by blood? The Inquisitors threw Marty in a cell with more dirt and rats running the joint. Marty wept, if only he had read whatever the teacher asked him to, perhaps things would be different...
To Marty's great surprise, it was his history teacher that was sitting on another bench in the shade.
"So, they tortured you? Too bad, no way out now..." the teacher said in a sad, taunting and cruel tone.
Marty pleaded for help, he said that he would read the whole textbook and learn it by heart if he had to.
"Alright," the teacher replied.
"It is as they say, One is as foolish to punish the first time as one is to forgive the second."
"Let's go home," and there the man made a pause, smiling with a twisted and broken smile, the ugliest one that Marty had ever seen.
"Although, I've also seen your passion for arts, the knight's hatred for teachers. Perhaps on our way home let's visit the Battle of Grunwald?" Marty jumped as he realised how serious his teacher's voice sounded in the dark...