A simple story I wrote at around... Eleven at night, so not my BEST piece of work...
The Legend of the D-Class
D-9352 was another ordinary soul - who had a life before the Foundation, but could never recall it due to the amnesiacs provided to him by the cruel organisation. As just another Class-D: he was used to "experiment" on the other creatures that were unreasonably contained here. His idea of a life was to be locked in a small cell - which at least had a toilet which was for his own, private use, with a bed and tasteless white plaster walls surrounding him.
He was thirty-three when the "Incident" occurred. It wasn't his fault; it was the work of the Foundation - with their seemingly "secure" containment, which provided no relief to the Class-Ds that were thrown into the chambers nor the creatures contained in them. To be honest, I am not sure whether to empathise with the Ds or the creatures. D-9532 sat, pondering on what his next deadly assignment may be. Every now and again, he caught the eye of some poor soul who walked down the corridor parallel to his cell.
Every time the door of his cell opened, a cold sweat rushed over him, sweeping down to his fingers and feet. This time, another D walked down, ending up adjacent to his cell. D-9532 stood, pressed against the wall furthest from the door, ready for whatever may step through. Then, the doors opened and another poor Class-D stepped through into his cell. The intercom static filled the room, and a researcher - named Dr. Fairy, instructed the Class-D to move further into the foreign cell. D-9532 and D-2045 caught each other's eye.
Reluctantly, the Class D approached D-9532. Dr. Fairy announced "Now, I want you to try and communicate with him." Hesitantly, the D said "Hello?". This was met with no response. Instead, D-9532 backed to the far wall; and on instinct, so did the other D-Class. A look of horror filled the D's face as D-9532 climbed the wall on all fours. D-9532 continued to observe the stranger D that was introduced to his home. Then, deciding he was a danger, he leapt six foot across to the D-Class. The emergency shutters of the room closed, and the D-Class was no more.
In shock, D-9532 stood, shaking violently after what he had just done. He looked down to the mangled body of the person he had just killed. "What have I done?" he said; as the security guards rushed in - their guns pointed at D-9532. They screamed at him to get on his knees, but he was still in shock.
Then, he figured out what to do. He didn't want this life, just as much as the other Class-D didn't want his, whether he had a choice or not. So, D-9532, deciding his life was pointless here, threw himself at the nearest guard; three shots tearing through his flesh and out the other side. He landed on the ground with a thump, and a few specks of dust flew off the floor into the tasteless air. Then, the guards left, leaving D-9532's torn body on the floor. Then, he awoke...
[This story has been published since I have joined CDN (Class D Nation), which sympathises with Class-Ds due to the general abuse of them. Also, if this tale is published on the Tales and Incidents Wikia, can it not be entitled 'Skibbs', that is my pen name, not the title. The title is The Legend of the D-Class. Thank you.]