Just a Normal D-Class

7

Warning: This chapter contains a bit more cussing than usual, and also mentions whiskey/flasks/being drunk

She was laying on the bed in her cell when they finally came. She heard them walking, and then a gasp.

She listened as they muttered under their breath, and then picked up Robert's corpse. "We'll take this... Hale, you're going to be talking to it."

"She's not-" Mason's voice cut off as if someone had silently shushed him. It. D didn't know how to feel about that yet. "Okay," Mason murmured, and after a moment the door slid open. 

"Hello," D said pleasantly. "I see you found Robert." Mason sighed. "Why, and more importantly how did you kill him?" His voice shook slightly. D shook her head as she jumped off the bed, walking up to him. 

"Neither of those are important," she muttered. Mason blinked but didn't press. "Okay, then uhm- we need you for an interview." D was suddenly interested. "With who?" Mason rubbed his face. "I don't think I'm allowed to tell you that." he cleared his throat.

"Just come on- or you'll be-" D grinned and pushed past him. "Punished, I know." She walked past the large stain of blood that used to be coursing through Robert's veins, and then down the stairs. Mason hurried after her.

She waited impatiently for Mason to open the door and then stepped into the hallway. A trickle of blood could be seen running across the floor to a door, where it stopped. D wondered what they were going to do with his body. 

Would they dump it into a bin full of other dead D-Class? Would they light it and let it burn to ashes? Or would they feed it to one of the SCP? She would never know. And she didn't quite care, either.

"This way," Mason muttered, leading her through a door, and then another door, and then a hallway. How does he navigate this place? It's like a maze! D kept the thought to herself, not wanting to give away anything that could be used against her; (such as her inability to tell where the hell they were going.)

At last, they stopped at a door labeled INTERVIEWS. D cracked her knuckles and walked in, Mason staying behind. She noticed there was another room on the far wall, which had a large window. Three people stood behind the window, all staring at her curiously. 

"Sit," ordered a gruff voice, which belonged to a man sitting in a chair. There was an empty chair too, and a table between them. On the table was a tape recorder. D did as she was told and sat down, leaning the chair back like a bored kid at school.

"I am Archer McKay. Doctor McKay to you. I won't be putting up with the shit that Hale does, so you either call me by my title or don't talk to me. Got it?" He pulled a flask from a bag around his waist and took a sip.

He was heavily built, wearing a brown hat and a brown overcoat. He had a small fuzzy beard that looked more like he just forgot to shave. His skin was slightly tanned, and he had multiple small scars.

D laughed. "I don't think I'll be calling you Doctor McKale, sir." Archer raised an eyebrow. "I just told you you call me that or-" D cut him off by putting her hand up. "I got that, Sherlock- Actually that's what I'm gonna call you. Sherlock."

He blinked, momentarily stunned. He took another sip from his flask and narrowed his eyes. Taking a deep breath he reached up and pressed a button on the tape recorder. "Alright. I just need to ask some questions. Can you comprehend that?" he sounded annoyed.

"Yes," D responded, still smiling. Archer sighed and nodded. "Alright. Our first question is: Who are you? We get that you want to be called 'D' but what's your real name? We have almost nothing on you in our files. We have your age, height, and the reason your here."

D thought for a moment. "D," she said stiffly. Archer shook his head. "Your real name." D reached down to grab the knife from her pocket but stopped herself. "I get that, Sherlock. And I told you. My name is D."

Archer stood up and slammed his hands on the table. "Stop being stupid. And stop calling me that!" he gulped from his flask. D just smiled. "I don't take orders from you, Sherlock." Archer bunched his hands to fists and stormed over to her.

He leaned down close ad poked her roughly in the chest. "Look," he said darkly. His breath smelled like whiskey. "Enough with the games. Answer the damn questions or get the hell out." D smacked his hand away.

"Enough with the cursing, there are kids in the room," she said mockingly, standing up. "Now I am going to do as you so kindly requested and leave. I don't want to see your ugly face any more than I have to."

He stepped up to her, and she took a step back, the heel of her sneaker hitting the wall. Her heart was starting to pound again as the stench of whiskey burned her nose. She opened her mouth to say something more, but suddenly a hand was tight around her throat and she was slammed against the wall.

A shout told D that this was not supposed to happen. She reached to grab her knife as she struggled for air, now laughing hysterically. I can't show it right now. They'll take it. Still laughing, D dropped her hand and instead pushed her feet against Archer's chest.

He cried out and fell back, while D fell to the floor, still laughing and gasping for air. "Wow," she said hoarsely, grinning wildly. "Someone needs to take your flask away before you get even drunker, buddy." Archer stood up and gave her a murderous glare. 

Then the door on the far side of the room burst open and the people ran out. One of them grabbed the tape recorder, one went to talk quietly to Archer, and one grabbed her by the arm. She went to get him off but he slapped her across the face. She blinked, stunned.

She was pulled out of the room, and caught a glimpse of Mason, staring at her. "What happened?" he shouted before he was out of sight. When they were back at the D-Class door, the man holding her shoved her in, having her land on her butt.

"You don't know what you've gotten yourself into." His voice was grave with a hint of amusement. As she got up the door hissed closed and D began to pace, grabbing her knife and holding it tightly.

Huh. That didn't go as planned... for them.

She smiled.

And then she stopped. Why the hell did they want my name? She blinked and gripped the knife tighter, suddenly wanting to dig it into Archer's eyeball and hear him scream. But she couldn't do that. Not yet.

Plus, they were never going to get her name. Not unless they wanted to die the same day. 

Didn't really know how to end the chapter ._.

But yhea, new character. He's actually inspired by a character one of my friends played in the roleplay that inspired this entire book. 

Anyway, point out any mistakes or don't, I don't really care :P

(sorry there wasn't any gore in this chapter! I had this scene planned long before I started writing the book.)