Class D

Leaning against a wall of that annoying cell, the smell of oblivion and the blood of unfortunate people were the only things that kept him awake

He had lost track of time; he didn't know what day it was or if it was even daytime. He only knew that at least 10 years had passed since he'd been there, and that made him lose even more interest in his own life. Being a Class D, it was surprising to have survived that long, almost impossible, but he wasn't the only one. Maybe there were people older, but he never really cared to get to know the others.

The place was a prison; there was no room to make friends, maybe allies, or even gangs if you liked violence. The important thing there was to survive, even escape, but I had never found the possibility.

The place was as noisy as ever; some were in the cafeteria, others fighting with the guards (from a distance, being very timid), others arriving from experiments or even being chosen for others...until something in their boring existence would begin to change