Jump to content

Test Group 11


Recommended Posts

Heh, this is it: Futile Attempt to Save PFF #1: Post my new fanfic, ditch the old one noone cared about.

I didn't like the way the old one was going anyway...it went too slow.



Well, basically, it don't want to spoil the story, nor the backstory, as Im planning on revealing bits and bits of the backstory during the actual story. What I can tell you is this - its probably not Star Wars at all. Its inspired more by fight anime like Bleach, and horror like Higurashi no Naku Koro ni. (Actually, its probably specifically those two). And maybe the video game Portal (which I haven't played, but I know enough about to be inspired...funny eh?)

Anyhow - here's the setting. Merek Iras, 17. Human. Born in the test site, raised as a test subject. Now sitting in a cell in the test facility.


Dramatis Personae (for now):

Main Characters

Merek Iras, 17

?????????, ??

?????????, ??

?????????, ??






Merek Iras sat in a corner of his dark, dank, concrete cell. His eyes scanned the concrete wall, over the wet sections where a leaking overhead pipe flowed down, over the little craters created by air bubbles when it was made. He fidgeted with his hands.

There was no window in the cell. There was no window in the entire testing complex where he had spent all seventeen years of his life. Buried three miles beneath a mountain, underneath a military stronghold, the facility was the perfect place to...tamper...with humans, away from the prying eyes of the public.

He had never known his parents, nor did he know if he had parents in the first place, but until recently, he had a family - test group 11. Merek sighed remembering the relatively better times that came before this solitary confinement, the time when there still was a test group 11.

There isn't one now. Everyone has mysteriously vanished one by one, sometimes during tests, but mostly, during "free time". Everyone except Merek.

He didn't know why he was the last person left - but he vividly remebered what happened...


There were a total of eleven groups of fourty test subjects each, each being subjected to a psionic ability enhancing chemical developed by the military. A bid to create super soldiers to turn the tide of a losing battle. A battle that somehow still raged after seventeen years, but this wasn't the point. Merek gave little though of the intentions of the military.

Each group would have the chemical administered for the number of years in their group, all groups completing the project in 17 years.

The military continued to develop the drug, and after five years, they came up with a more effective chemical, that was used on groups five and below, while groups six to eleven used the original formula.

It didn't work. Beginning at the seventh year, test subjects disappeared one by one. At first, noone knew what happened to them. Noone really cared, until the disappearances grew more frequent.

Then word got out that they didn't "disappear" per-se. Military guards would take them away silently at times when noone was paying attention. That didn't help the situation, which grew more tense.

Later, sometime in the ninth year, after two other groups stared experiencing disappearances, someone witnessed the moment someone was taken away, foaming at the mouth and trying to gouge their own eyes out. The people monitoring the test waved it off as a hoax and a horror story, but in the back of everyone's minds, they knew it was true. Something was happening, and everyone was praying that they weren't next.


Merek grabbed a pebble lying by his leg and chucked it at the opposite wall, following it with his eyes as it arced across the cell, hit the wall, and bounced back towards him.

Why was he the only one left? Merek shook the though off and continued to fiddle with the pebble. There's no use thinking why. There's nothing left for me.

Merek glanced towards the guard, standing just outside the cell. Should I just ask him to end this? He contemplated the thought...would the guard do it even if he asked? Probably not.

Merek sighed and looked back towards the opposite wall, unconsciously rubbing his eyes - they itched.

Yea, actually, asking the guard isn't too bad of an idea.

As Merek tried to speak, he found that no sound would come. It was becoming difficult to breathe, and the itching behind his eyes was getting unbearable...it was so close...

Wait...this is it. Yes...its my turn at last. Merek relaxed and let his subconsious take over. Let death come swiftly and end this torment.


"That was fun"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Very intriguing. It works better if you don't kill of the main character in the first section though.  ;D Note: I'm pretty sure he's not dead. That's just a joke.


Post more when you write it.

Protecting the world from those who have an IQ higher than 30! Huzzah!


Trust me...I'm a professional.


Some other members and I are trying to be superheroes and save the forums. But we can't do it on our own. We need your help! Join us!



Link to comment
Share on other sites


Chapter One


Merek lay on the floor of the dark, dank, concrete cell, breathing slowly. He slowly sat up and looked towards the cell door. The guard still stood silently, as if nothing had happened.

What is this? Merek stared at the black glove that encased his right hand, and slowly clenched his fist and unclenched it. He smiled. So that's what this is.

Merek stood up and walked towards the cell door and stood in front of it, the metal screen being the only thing separating him and the guard.

"Hey." Merek spoke.

"What?" the guard turned around, "You want something?" It was the start, and the guard didn't want to stir up commotion now.

"Yes, actually." Merek lifted his gloved hand.

"What would that be?"the guard eyed Merek cautiously.

"Your life. Flare, Incendius." A small blast of fire leapt from the back of Merek's gloved hand into the face of the guard, melting a hole through the metal screen wall. The guard screamed as he clutched his face and ran backwards, impaling himself on a hook on the wall and falling silent.

Sweeping his hand upwards, moved the small plume of fire so that it cut a large section out of the metal grating and leaped through. He relieved the dead guard of his weapons and took the key card.

This is my purpose.


Merek gazed out the long dark hallway lined with cells. He was held in the last cell in the entire detention block, and coincidentally, the only that has ever had an occupant. Aside from the single guard that he had just killed, the entire block was devoid of activity.

How convenient. Merek walked into the detention block guard station. Wires hung from the ceiling and the far wall was dominated by a set of 9 monitors, looking at different areas of the detention block. A of the lower level hung on one wall. There was no one inside. Not that there needed to be - there was only one prisoner anyway. Merek gazed at the monitors and at the map of the complex. The detention block as the lowest level, shoved at the very back of the facility. A corridor connected the detention block to a guard barracks, then to the now-empty group 11 complex.

This should be simple. Eight guards, minus the one I took out, which leaves seven guarding the entire lower level. From the way I've seen the guards operate, there's little to no communication between the levels except if an alarm is raised.

Merek held the pistol belonging to guard he had recently killed firmly in his left hand and placed the silencer on it. He strolled into the unlighted steel metal hallway. The brightly lit room that was the guard barracks lay ahead, where three guards were chatting over a table. Aiming steadily with his left hand, he pulled the trigger. Two. A guard slumped forwards where he sat, where he was chatting with his comrades a few moments before.

"What the..." The other guards stood up and gazed into the dark hallway, "w...who's there?!"

Merek pulled the trigger again. A red spot appeared on the guard on the left's forehead and he fell backwards. Three... The third guard his weapon and fired blindly into the darkness. Merek pulled the trigger a third time, the guard's shots missing him completely. Four... The third guard flee down on top of his comrades.

Merek walked into the lit room and rummaged through the corpses of the guards, taking the card keys and ammunition. Hearing footsteps behind the closed, blue door, he quickly slid back into the cover of darkness.


The guard reached for the door. He swore he heard gunshots being fired. Drawing his weapon, he slowly opened the door and stepped through.

"Fre-" The guard did not get to finish his sentence before Merek fired from the shadows, hitting the guard in the forehead. Five. Three left.

Merek grabbed the guard's key card and ammunition and proceeded though the now-open blue door.



"Dang, that was a long shift!" The guard exclaimed to his two comrades as they patrolled the empty corridors of the group 11 complex.

"Yea. Joe went to get tell those lazy bastards in the rec room that its their turn." The second guard replied.

"Hell, he's sure taking his time." The first guard answered.

"Aw hell no, don't tell me he joined those bastards for a card came or something." The second guard exclaimed.

"Should we go check on him?" The first guard asked.

"Lets go whoop his sorry ass." The second guard said while nodding his head.

"Intruder." The third guard muttered softly.

"Alright. Lets go." The first guard drew his weapon and motioned to his comrades as he started towards the blue door.


Merek stood flat against the wall as he eavesdropped on the guard's conversation, catching every phrase except for the third guard's single word. A shot whizzed past his ear and he ducked down and returned fire, rolling on the ground.

"I gotcha now, bastard!" The second guard exclaimed as he drew a second pistol and proceeded to fire with both.

Cocky one goes first. Merek nimbly sidestepped the guard's inaccurate shots and put a bullet between his eyes. Six.

The first guard drew a semi automatic and sprayed a torrent of shots into the darkness where Merek hid.

This isn't good. Wheres the third - Merek was cut short as the third guard closed in and swung his nightstick down, knocking Merek's pistol away.

"Flare, Incendius." A stream of fire shot from the back of Merek's gloved right hand into the chest of the third guard.

"Phase." The stream of fire materialized into a serrated metal blade impaling the guard. Merek pulled back and the blade came out of the guard's chest, ripping a large hole.

"Return." The blade scattered into a shower of sparks that quickly died down. Seven

As the guard slumped to the floor on top of a pool of his own blood, Merek rolled and picked up his pistol, dodging a spray of projectiles from the first guard's weapon. The stray shots clipped into a gas pipe running the length of the hallway, setting off an explosion. Merek threw himself on the ground to avoid the heat wave and fired a salvo of bullets into the guard's chest.


Merek picked himself up and proceeded to the comm station at the far end of the hallway.


"That was fun"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

Copyright (c) 1999-2022 by SWRebellion Community - All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owner. The comments are property of their posters. Star Wars(TM) is a registered trademark of LucasFilm, Ltd. We are not affiliated with LucasFilm or Walt Disney. This is a fan site and online gaming community (non-profit). Powered by Invision Community

  • Create New...