Dan and Phil: the End of Eras

by subslime

We enter the life of Dan and Phil, enjoying a regular evening, and basking in home comforts. Their world, however, is about to turn upside down and inside out when a series of strange events begin to take place.

Dan and Phil: End of Eras

"Dan- Dan! The news- it's so bad, ohmygod!"

The speaker, Phil Lester, was watching the 10:00pm news on the TV he shared with his housemate and best friend, Dan Howell. But instead of having a usual idyllic evening, he was sat, hands shaking, staring at the TV with an expression of pure horror.

From the other room, Dan appeared holding a mug and a half-full bottle of brandy. His tawny hair was unusually flattened from the llama hat he wore on his head, and his clothes, creased as usual, from slouching on the sofa all day. When he noticed the state of his friend, though, he gave a start, frowning.

"Why do you have brandy?" Phil suddenly asked, jumped out of his terror-filled state, and dragging his eyes over Dan. From his cross-legged position on the sofa, he couldn't see what Dan was actually drinking, but he thought he could smell the faint, sharp tang of alcohol in the air.

"'Tis the season, Philly... and it's been a long day." Dan murmured thoughtfully, sipping from the grotesque mug in his hand.

"Anyway," Phil shook his head, trying to clear it, "the news- have you seen it?" He repeated his question with some frenzied urgency.

Dan plonked himself down onto the arm of the sofa, peering at the screen with undisguised interest. Phil, who tried to move himself so Dan could see better, only succeeded in limiting Dan's vision more with his raven-haired head, and so it took a while for Dan to find out what Phil was so unnerved about.

"What the-" Dan yelled, falling back and onto the floor with a bang. His legs waved ungracefully above his head they folded over him from the momentum of the fall.

This time, though, Phil didn't laugh or offer to help, he only shared a glance of sympathy with his friend, who had spilled both the brandy and whatever concoction he had created in the mug over the floor.

They both ignored it, though, rapt on the TV screen in morbid curiosity.

"-forty-eight casualties and counting-"

"-no sign of relenting-"

"-the world's end?-"

The screen had started to dissolve into static, only a few disjointed sentences pierced through as a series of fear-stricken cries.

Dan had seen enough; he yanked the remote from Phil's hands, turning the TV off before it could affect Phil any more.

The silence that filled the room was as brittle as ice: Stunned. Afraid. Disbelieving.

Frozen to his spot, and his heart beating wildly, he asked Phil from the corner of his mouth what had happened. He was shaken badly, the chaotic panic from the TV broadcast had seeped into his own system; wild possibilities of everything he'd ever feared had leapt up in his imagination, and for a moment he frantically hoped this was all some sort of a joke- for another video maybe?

Phil, twitching slightly, began a disjointed explanation of what he had just witnessed. Throughout this his eyes spun queasily in their sockets.

"Dan- they said- that characters were coming to life, from, like, books and movies..." Phil blurted, looking as if he didn't quite believe it either.

"Phil if this is some sort of joke-"

"No! I mean- I'm not joking... but maybe someone else? Look outside." Phil replied, a naive sort of sturdiness returning to his voice. "It's probably a practical joke, but just... check."

Dan, who was having all sorts of images of people laughing their butts off behind a camera, strode across the room to the window of their flat that overlooked the street outside. He pushed the curtain shielding it away impatiently, and searched the seemingly empty street.

It was deserted, which was not unusual for a winter night, but Dan, who was still unnerved, felt exposed and saw something eerie in every shadow and slight movement in the world outside.

"Nothing to worry about, Phil- it must be a joke- I saw some Derren Brown thing about it once-"

Suddenly a huge explosion flung Dan to the floor again, right into the middle of the sticky, spilled mess he had made earlier- Phil was also flung back, and crashed into the wall behind the sofa, shielding his eyes from the glass raindrops falling over them.

"DAN!" He shouted, feeling tiny grazes appear on his forearms.

"I'm okay! I'm okay- WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!" Dan yelled in return, preparing himself for inevitable death. He realised then that no matter how many existential crises he had experienced, he was not ready to die- at least not before Sherlock Season Four.

The explosion over, they clambered up in a confusion of dust and rubble. Dan saw Phil's silhouette standing upright a few feet away from him, and a part of him felt like crying in relief that his best friend was okay.

The two boys scrambled over to each other, checking for any serious injuries. As he was doing this, Phil wondered if he was dreaming, or having some powerful hallucination, but if so, there was nothing he could do but play along with it.

As the dust settled, three important things happened simultaneously that the boys would never forget:

The first being that they found the whole exterior of their flat had been blown up, exposing their rooms to the chilly night.

The second was the realisation that this was almost definitely real, and not another Youtuber's practical joke.

The third, the strangest of all, was seeing the Hulk stomp around on the cracked road, throwing cars up into the air and roaring.

As they watched the scene unfold before their eyes, a strange feeling came upon Phil; he felt as if he were about to faint, but not quite. The whole thing was incredibly unreal, and if asked about it later, Phil would not have been able to recall much of what happened next.

"What the f***?" Dan exclaimed, eyeing the situation with certified terror. The only experience he had of dealing with unknown situations was through video games and public transport. Neither of those were useful now, and so he just stood on the wreckage that was once their beloved flat, feeling small and insignificant.

"Wait- how did you manage to speak asterisks in real life?" Phil asked all of a sudden.

"I don't know, Phil, I don't know." Dan replied, expecting another existential crisis very soon.

As they were saying this, they did not notice that the Hulk had swivelled its gigantic, misshapen head in their direction, growling.

"Oh shoot- Dan look out!" Phil yelped, dragging his friend back as the Hulk leapt into the air, smashing everything where they once stood. Immediately hyperaware of the danger, they dashed back into the rooms of the flat that weren't demolished by the explosion, clanging past furniture that held so many great memories for both of them.

It was insignificant now, though, as they raced for their lives, both knowing, somehow, that they need to get out of the flat. The Hulk crashed its way through the building behind them, snarling as it struggled to get its huge mass through the walls.

Dan and Phil grabbed whatever part of each other that they could to stay together- fear attacking them from all sides as the ceiling crashes in above them.

-They're racing down the stairs, being rained on by plaster-

-Dan yells something unintelligible as the Hulk punches through the wall on his right-

-Phil trips, scattering rubble around Dan's feet-

-the tallest of the two manages to heave him back up again but-

-their world is crumbling around them-

-something explodes behind them- heat, so much heat-

-"DAN!"-

-Suffocating, life draining from their bodies, they stumble-

-so close, so close-

Fresh air!

Gasping- wheezing- hearts pounding- minds racing-

They turned as one body, the orange glare blistering their skin-

Choking, Phil's eyes widened with distraught as he saw his home burning to the ground.

Bending over, coughing his lungs out, Dan tried not to look at the sight before him, but the flames

dancing in fierce, burning rituals were too hypnotic; he couldn't take his eyes away.

"Dan- are you-?"

But before they could tend to each other, a bone-rattling roar broke from the burning ruins of their flat, and without a moment's hesitation, they were fleeing, their shoeless feet smacking the hard concrete, but neither cared. The best friends only cared for one thing: to get the hell out of the area before the Hulk tried to kill them again.

Phil wondered who would look after the Hulk before he turned human again, and as if by thought, a golden streak flew through the air above them- it was something man-sized, metal, and very, very expensive-looking...

"Oh my God, Phil, it's Iron Man."

Halting immediately, they stared at the gold and red shape of Tony Stark's superhero- Iron Man.

It was as if they had suddenly entered a Marvel film, Phil noted, as they watched the hero soothe the

Hulk.

"Well that's a relief." Dan sighed ironically, as the two once-fictional characters went away from the scene of the flat's destruction.

"So, it's true, then, that fictional characters have come to life." Dan murmured

"And our flat's destroyed."Phil muttered sadly.

"We can't be the only ones, though."

"You're right. This could be happening over the whole country- maybe even the world."

"And the Hulk isn't even the worst character to have been created..."

"You're right- what about 'The Walking Dead'? President Snow? Voldemort?!"

"And countless of others; those bloody horror writers will have a lot to answer for."

"So what are we going to do?"

Silence followed Phil's question; a silence which was only interrupted by the occasional explosion in the distance.

"The world's fallen into anarchy." Dan said thoughtfully, but other than that, he didn't know what else to say.

Instead, to prompt ideas, they watched the world around them: the spiral of fire rising in the distance, a red horizon; shouts and screams erupting mere streets away, whereas their own continued to be worryingly quiet; sparks flying from TV aerials and electricity wires; the dark sky starless from light pollution; sparks bursting in the air like radiant fireworks; howls of wolves in the distance; the first few drops of rain splashing in high definition on the pavement; the terrible fumes of smoke and ash; the chilly night breeze on bare flesh.

"I have it!" Phil suddenly jumped up, his scratched face an image of glee and excitement, his mouth spread wide in a childlike grin.

"What? Tell me, Phil!"

"Well, what sort of place can you find the most amount of books in England?" Phil said ecstatically.

"Erm... a library?" Dan guessed, obviously not on the same wavelength as his friend, yet.

"Exactly! And what's the biggest library in England?"

"The... British Library?"

"Yes!- wait... You just guessed that right?"

"Phil you're forgetting that we barely go outside."

"Pfft! That's rubbish, we wrote a book about it remember!"

To Dan, however, that seemed like a lifetime ago. Nostalgically, he remembered the hours they had spent in that tiny little flat, designing merchandise or their newest book, and wished that he'd appreciated it more.

"Tell me your plan, then." Dan managed to extract those words from himself with effort.

"Well," Phil began, and explained his theory animatedly.

After this, Dan had to sit on the kerb to think.

"So, you're telling me that the British library is the source of all this crap?" He said. If Phil had proposed this an hour ago, he would have scoffed it, but since he had literally seen the Hulk destroy their apartment, he was more open to new concepts now. "It's logical, I guess."

"It must be." Phil replied confidently.

"But there are characters from movies and TV shows, too," Dan argued, "so how do we know if the BT tower isn't the source?"

"There's wifi in the Library. You never know- some member might have set up a Netflix or- or something there..."

Dan sighed. He was so confused. He placed his pounding head in his hands, trying to make sense of everything.

"What are we going to do with this information, anyway?" He said after a while.

"Well, I was thinking that we could go to the Library, snoop around a little- like lizards- and see if we find any clues as to what happened. An adventure!" Phil wriggled his hands near his chin as if to resemble a frilly sort of lizard.

"Uncanny." Dan snorted, forgetting their situation for a moment as they chuckled together nervously.

"Do you think we should go?" Dan queried, to himself as much to Phil.

"It's better than sitting out here, in the cold. I doubt any help will come for us, and we're only attracting danger by hanging around- what if the Hulk comes back?"

Dan was silenced.

He would have hated to wait for the Hulk to return, but he hated anything to do with the supernatural more- who's to say video game characters wouldn't come to life? What if the Slenderman was out there somewhere?

But Phil was adamant. And Dan, though he knew how much of a disaster his friend was sometimes, valued his opinion greatly.

"Fine."

Phil whooped, and helped his friend to his feet. Dan assumed that Phil was hiding his immense fear under all that enthusiasm, but he appreciated it anyway.

"Do you know how to get there?" Dan asked.

Phil's face suddenly fell. "My phone... I left it in the flat when we were trying to escape. Now we won't be able to use Google Maps either."

"Yeah, and I kinda wish the author of this made us put on shoes before we ran out of the flat..." Dan muttered, grimacing at his soggy feet.

"Dan, stop breaking the fourth wall."

"Anyway, it's a good thing I carry my phone with me all the time-" Dan took the small device out of his pocket and made to turn it on.

But the small screen remained pitch black.

Out of battery.

"-Fuck."

"Dan!"

"Sorry, I meant 'F***'."

"I still want to know how you do that..."

"Phil, it doesn't matter- how are we going to get to the Library if we have no idea where we're going?"

"-That's a good question. It's a good thing I have the answer." A hearty voice made them all spin around at once, and behind them, four teenagers were standing on a pile of rubble, grinning at their startled expressions.

"Who are-" Phil began, but before he could say anymore, Dan squeezed his arm.

"Phil." He hyperventilated. "Phil- it's the Marauders."

"The Maraude-who? Oh wait, aren't those the Harry Potter guys who-"

"That's right: The Marauders." The one who could only be James Potter laughed. As if oblivious to the destruction around him, he hopped down the cement rocks precariously, with his friends following eagerly.

"Ohmygodtheyresocoollookphillookohmygod." Dan spluttered, grabbing his best friend's arm to steady himself as the famous Marauders walked closer to them.

James, the obvious ringleader, shook hands gallantly with Dan, who swooned slightly. The others simply looked on, amused. The one with long, dark hair and a coy smirk must have been Sirius Black; the tall one with light brown hair and scars streaking across his features must have been the werewolf, Remus Lupin; and the last, who resembled something like a dumpling, was small, timid-looking, and rat-like in appearance. Phil didn't like the look of him. Feeling awkward, though, he decided he would say something, especially to save Dan the embarrassment of doing something ridiculous.

"You said you could help us?" He reminded them, as the pause grew.

"Yep. We got what you need right- here." James burst in, taking out an old, yellowed piece of parchment that was blank. Dan gasped, and James took out his wand, whispered something about mischief, and suddenly a web of the tiniest, blackest threads seeped out over the sheet, covering it with all kinds of intriguing images.

When the magic was complete, it looked like a-

"-map." Dan said hoarsely.

"The Marauders' Map." Remus Lupin corrected, smiling slightly at the long-haired one. As this happened, James handed what used to be a scrappy old piece of paper which was now a glorious map over to Dan, who accepted it with shaking fingers.

"Don't you need this?" He said.

"Nah." James shrugged. "Know this place like the back of my hand. Plus we have brooms." He indicated this with his hand, pointing at the four wooden ones in Pettigrew's hands.

"Thanks you mo such." Dan stumbled over his words, so utterly in awe.

"Why are you giving this to us, though?" Phil interrogated, suspicious at the convenience of it all.

"¯\_(ツ)_/¯." James replied simply.

"How do you guys do that?" Phil almost screamed, but no answer was given.

"Just kidding; we heard you guys say you were gonna figure this all out. The map might be a bit of help. I miss my home in the Harry Potter books- this fanfiction is weird and new; I don't like it."

"Stop breaking the fourth wall-"

"-anyway," James continued, ignoring Phil's interruptions, "good luck."

Having said that, the Marauders bowed and left Dan and Phil standing gormlessly in the middle of the road, feeling very bewildered.

After a while, though, they both recovered, and set to investigating the Map.

"Okay so if we go down that street there-"

"-We'll end up near there-"

"-And we can follow that street to get here..."

They had spent over half an hour in total trying to create the prefect route. The Marauders' Map, thankfully, also showed the name and location of anyone wandering around, which proved to be very useful when they saw the word 'Voldemort' floating around Regent Street, and decided to stay well away.

Eventually, they finished their discussions, deciding on taking a slightly longer, but quieter route to the Library, which was not too far at all and wouldn't take too long to make- if they didn't run into any obstacles on the way.

And so, barefooted and shivering, the two boys began the most peculiar journey they had ever taken, spreading the map out in front of them, constantly on the lookout for danger. Dan had begun to feel hopeful about this, in an oddly euphoric moment, however Phil stayed close to his best friend, fearing the worst that was out there.

They had almost made it to the halfway point- Piccadilly Circus- before disaster struck.

"Oh fook." Dan groaned, as a storm brew above their heads: a storm like no other; filled with raging lightning and shrieking thunder; black clouds circulated, filling the air above, drawing whatever was in the storm closer and closer to the ground.

A huge, tinkling smash signalled the breaking of glass as the One and Only Thor stepped out of the tornado he had created, dragging his 'brother', Loki, with him.

"You will never have the throne, Loki!" Thor bellowed, completely oblivious to the mortals standing only a few feet away, mouths agog.

"Oh I will! I will, Thor! But not before I destroy all you have loved!" Loki cried back, the face of Tom Hiddleston gleaming with sweat and rage.

Thor didn't reply, he only swung his mighty Mjolnir at his foe, shattering the buildings behind him as Loki used his sorcery to disappear. The ancient runes on the hammer were streaked with lightning, building in energy as Thor's anger grew, turning to find the Trickster God.

"No!" Phil yelled, as Thor prepared Mjolnir for another attack at Loki who was smirking ruthlessly on littered concrete. The boy ran in between at last minute, holding up his hands as perhaps a sign of peace, while Dan screamed silently, in awe and also in rage at his friend's stupidity.

"Phil- they're Gods you can't stop them!" He yelled, but too late: Phil stood defiantly between the battling brothers, his knees quaking slightly.

"If you really loved Jane, Thor, you wouldn't ruin our world! Take your fight somewhere else!" Phil cried, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

"What do you know about-" Thor began, but Loki had raised his sceptre ready, and shot a jet of ice-blue, radiant fire at Thor, who crumpled under the attack. Laughing menacingly, Loki started on Phil, but before the God could strike, Dan barrelled his friend out of the way of the killing power.

"Dan-"

"NO! ENOUGH, YOU VILE HALF-BREED!" A screeching cry sounded from another alley leading off the main square. A short, plump woman in disgustingly pink clothes matched with an even frillier pink hat marched into Piccadilly Circus, armed with a pointed stick-

"Umbridge." Dan hissed, glaring irately at the frog-like woman.

Loki, slightly disconcerted at the arrival and audacity of this mortal troll, paused for a mere millisecond, but that was enough. Thor burst into action once more and tackled Loki head-on, ignoring his hammer for once. A portal then opened around them, a shimmering tunnel of rainbow light. It shone, like a grand, pearly lantern, then disappeared, taking the gods with them to who-knows-where. Mjolnir followed shortly after.

"Where have they gone? I will have order! Somebody persecute them!" Umbridge shrieked, looking slightly deranged. Her hatred for so-called 'Half-breeds' took her off on a rampaging rant about how there "should be more laws" and that each and every "awful half breed should be tagged and locked up". She was going on for quite a while when suddenly, a single, red-tailed arrow zoomed from high up down into the square below, landing near one of Umbridge's pink shoes that were tailored with a tiny, frilly bow on the toe.

"WHO-?" Umbridge growled, beast-like, but her bellow was interrupted again by another arrow soaring to the ground.

And another.

And another.

The amount of arrows violently striking the ground rapidly increased until a whole flurry of them were falling like a tidal wave from unknown shooters in the sky. Dan guessed they might be firing from the tops of the buildings, but he didn't want to wait to find out. He tugged Phil to his feet and they both ran into the shelter of what used to be a shop, except that its windows were smashed in and it had clearly been set on fire earlier.

The friends spied the scene before them from the safety of shelter: Umbridge was tottering around the square, shrieking, firing sparks from her wand in the direction of the attackers. The arrows, Phil noticed, were getting closer and closer to Umbridge, but never quite hitting her. He wondered if it was meant to simply scare her, but then the flurry ceased. It was replaced by a single, black-feathered arrow, longer, sleeker, and more vicious than the others. It pierced the night sky like a knife through velvet, creating a sharp, whirring sound as it found its way into Umbridge's chest- not quite in the centre, just slightly to the left.

It killed her instantly.

Then, the shadows came.

A group of them- jumping from windows and ledges all over the modernised buildings around them. They wore black with red sashes, except for one, who wore just black. Or so Phil thought, until he saw that she actually bore a sash of an even darker shade of black over her shoulders. She must be important.

"My name is Katniss Everdeen." She called, addressing the crowd like a symbol of hope. Her long brown braid slung over her shoulder confirmed that.

"Wooh! You killed Umbridge!" Dan celebrated, and all the eyes of the soldiers turned on him and Phil.

"Dan- really? Why did you attract their attention?" Phil demanded, but Katniss was striding up to them importantly, giving Dan no time to answer.

"She said she would reinforce Snow's ideals; I had to stop her." Katniss explained in her husky voice.

"How did she know about that?" Phil queried, confused about how all the once-fictional characters were aware of the other 'worlds'.

"I don't know. But the same thing's happening all over. For example, zombies have begun to only attack Muggles, because they know that magic will hurt them."

"There are zombies-"

"-I don't even know how I know about Muggles," Katniss continued, as if Dan hadn't interrupted, "but so many facts are suddenly appearing in my mind, and it's not just me. I think this has something to do with the government."

"I bet it was Brexit..." Phil muttered.

"Whatever it is," a boy with blonde hair, who must have been Peeta, stood at the right hand of Katniss said, "it must be some sort of mind-control thing. We have to stop it."

Dan and Phil exchanged a glance excitedly. "That's what we're trying to do." They said together. Then Phil, looking awkward, allowed Dan to carry on.

"We're going to the British Library- we think something might be happening there." Dan told her quickly, then ran through what they had already seen, starting from the explosion in their flat.

Nodding, Katniss took Peeta to the side and muttered with him for a few minutes. They seemed to be discussing something. Confused and worried, Dan and Phil prepared themselves for an attack, but none came, though the proximity of weapons and the stances of the red-sash soldiers around them made them feel threatened and sweaty.

All of a sudden, the two turned to face the boys again, determination etched out on their faces.

"You two are brave." Peeta commented.

"We'll defend the Library for you. We have a Holo so we'll know where to be. First, we've got to get rid of some zombies... If you're in any trouble though- just whistle-" Katniss whistled the tune that Rue had taught her in her first Hunger Games, "-and we'll come for you."

And so, with Dan and Phil feeling slightly dazed, the shadows returned to their perches, and leapt away from sight. Distressed at the thought of zombies, Dan checked the Marauders' Map again, to see if the route ahead was clear, only to find that the giant peach from James and the Giant Peach had taken up most of one street, attracting dozens of aliens from Doctor Who.

"The world is really weird right now, Philly." Dan said, as they moved swiftly away from any crowds.

They criss-crossed through streets and houses, ran through marble buildings and grassy parks. hey vaulted over fires and floods of chemicals, and were tempted once by a pit filled with outer-space weapons, but they disregarded them after much discussion, agreeing to the fact that they'd probably just accidentally shoot themselves.

After a very close scrape when encountering a vampire and a werewolf from Twilight making out, Dan and Phil were so close to their goal, it was like an itch they couldn't get rid of, and when they saw the grand, surprisingly undamaged Library in the distance, they whooped with joy and hugged. By now, Phil was convinced whatever had caused this was hiding in the building, watching its evil plan come to life and sketching a new world in its diseased imagination. Dan, however, was still apprehensive, and was more focused on the immediate dangers around them. Entering this part of London was like entering the source of a black hole- chaos everywhere. The fray was terrifying as Strom Troopers battled dragons, the normal police held off talking animals, and wizards held off those infamous zombies.

Even Zac Efron was seen strutting about in his High School Musical outfit.

Anywhere the friends stepped they were at danger of exploding or being sought out or beaten up or killed. Dragonfire created an unbearable heat to their left while Elsa from Frozen made glaciers to their right. London was in anarchy, and the closer they got to the Library, the worse it became.

"Phil, hold onto me!" Dan yelled as a piece of building fell down in front of them and they were forced to backtrack. Godzilla was responsible for that crime, although Phil found that he couldn't bring himself to blame the lizard.

As if by magic, Dan and Phil found themselves at the entrance of the Library- it was surrounded by a glowing force field. As soon as they stepped through it the cries of battle around them were dulled, as if they had just been dunked in water. Behind a pillar, someone spoke:

"Who's there?" A defensive voice called.

"Don't hurt us!" Dan replied quickly, raising his hands in a surrendering position. Phil copied him.

A short man stepped out, holding a gun steadily at shoulder level.

"Why are you here?" He demanded, his voice calm, his posture straight and military-like.

"Oh come on, John, isn't it obvious?" Another voice cried out. It was silky, smart, and slightly obnoxious. The boys, however, knew at once to whom it belonged.

"Sherlock- not now!" John Watson hissed, angrily taking his eyes away from the boys' to look at his friend gliding out from the shadows.

"Look at them- observe. You can tell by their lack of shoes that they had just suffered a terrible calamity; their hair tells you that they're famous- media, maybe? -The creases on their jeans show a certain slobbish trait, though I think their fans glorify that- they're obviously smart enough, which I can tell from their eyebrows, to know that this place has some horrific meaning to the chaos London is now in- and they hadn't even bothered to pick up a weapon- just look at the grease on their knuckles, they've obviously been digging around in some- they're not here to attack, that's why- I can therefore deduce that they think they're here to investigate or to perhaps save the world-though they're not doing a good enough job at it."

Gobsmacked, the Youtubers stared on in wonder, while John rolled his eyes.

"Stop showing off." He sighed, but put down his weapon anyway. "Are you really here to do that?"

"Do you doubt me, John?" Sherlock demanded.

"No, but I keep hoping that one day you'll be wrong."

Dan and Phil confirmed what the consulting detective had said, then proposed their ideas.

Sherlock scoffed at first, then his eyes widened in some sort of epiphany.

"Of course... how clever..." He mumbled, his hands folded together at the base of his chin, looking extremely thoughtful.

"Well, we'll leave you to think this one out, we're gonna go in and check things out." Dan said suddenly, taking Phil with him hurriedly as they strode through the giant archway leading to the Library grounds. They ran, leaving John and Sherlock to stare at them in surprise, until the main door became clear. Phil sprinted faster than Dan, who was regretting wearing those bloody leather trousers, and charged through the door, straight into what lay ahead.

The building interior was as white and as silent as some white people are about the Black Lives Matter movement. The silence was palpable, and every noise the boys made seemed to echo and dance about the room.

"Hello?" Phil called tentatively, until Dan shushed him.

"What are you doing?" He muttered, "This is why you'll be that first person to die in horror films, Phil, you just don't say 'hello'!"

Now, even tenser than before, and with Adele stuck in their heads, they clambered up the flight of stairs, panting, as they felt like they had done enough exercise for one year. They reached the top, though, and stared around the auditorium curiously.

"There's no one here." Dan said the words that made Phil's heart fall.

"We should look around more." Phil replied firmly, gesturing at the different doorways that led to different rooms.

Appeasing Phil, though deep down knowing that this place is probably a dud, despite the force field they saw, Dan followed him to the Reading Room.

As they walked down eerily empty corridors, Dan felt as if he was being watched. The lights were out though sinister shapes were dancing over the white walls.

"Phil, I don't like this..." Dan mumbled, sticking closer to his friend.

"It's okay." Phil assured him, though his own heart was racing.

But Dan still felt uneasy, and at times thought he imagined a little squeaking sound following him.

Thankfully, and at last, they entered the Reading Room. Dan felt better once his back was safely to the wall, and relaxed a little as he looked around the airy domed-ceiling. There were no blind spots in the circular hall, and Dan and Phil took a bit of time to get their breath back.

Despite the lack of blind spots, though, they did not see the tiny terror coming up behind them.

"ARGH WHAT THE FOOK?" Dan screamed, jumping wildly into the air as Jigsaw from the Saw films came cycling up to them on his squeaky li'l tricycle. Phil yelped and lashed out at the puppet, but that did no good but to inflame the devil more.

"Do you want to play a game?" Jigsaw cackled, before Dan ran at it and kicked it off its trike and across the room. Then, Dan flew at him again, using the heaviest book he could find to smash the puppet's head into dust.

Panting, Dan returned to Phil, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Gone." He muttered.

During this time, they had also not noticed the arrival of someone more evil than Jigsaw. So all in all, Dan and Phil were doing a great job of this whole 'lookout' thing.

"So, you found my little hideaway." A woman's voice echoed, bringing the friends' attention to her, and Dan and Phil saw, with immense shock, that it was in fact J.K. Rowling stalking her way towards them.

"Oh my God, it's JK..." Dan cried with joy, not realising the danger.

"My boys, it's such a shame that you must die tonight." Rowling smiled, no trace of mercy on those lips.

"Mrs Rowling... what?" Phil stuttered.

"You boys had no idea that it was I who created this chaos, in hopes to create a new world of my own, where I am Queen!"

"But... JK... you are queen already!" Dan replied, feeling betrayed.

"Only to losers like you. I want to be queen of an entire universe. And as the creator of the best universe, I think I have the right to handpick those for my new one- only the best live!" The sadistic author snarled.

"I managed to brainwash you nerds into thinking I was great, so I could become rich enough to invent- this!" Rowling took out a notebook from her sparkly purse, it shimmered with other-worldly power.

"Whichever fictional world I write into this, it immediately exists. Soon our old Earth will be overtaken by a new world: Rowlingmore!"

Not knowing what to say, Dan and Phil just watched her laugh and write more in her notebook.

"And now, I just need to kill you-" Joanna Rowling began to say, but before she could finish, Sherlock and John and Mrs Hudson burst into the room, carrying a decapitated Chucky doll. Mrs Hudson slammed the doll's head into the ground and stormed at Rowling, taking out a .45 calibre pistol and firing it right into Rowling's skull. Dan felt sad for a moment, realising all she had done before she became murderous, then remembered the Hulk and the apartment, and bitterly turned away from her corpse.

"Thanks Hudders." Phil said, walking over to them comfortably. John and Sherlock nodded then held hands lovingly.

"What are we going to do about the notebook, though?" Dan asked, going over to Rowling's body and taking it from her slackened grasp. He felt sick as he looked into her fading eyes, and he muttered something. He then brought the notebook over to the party, opening the crisp pages to find name after name of TV shows, movies, and books.

"Why here, though?" Phil asked, gesturing at the thousands of books stacked orderly around them. "I suppose she harnessed power from the books." John guessed, but he did not seem to be concentrating. Sherlock had taken the notebook and began to study it carefully.

"What do we do to turn everything back?" Phil asked, his voice strangely high pitched and loud.

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" Sherlock murmured, but Mrs Hudson scolded him. She was placing the pistol back into her bra as she answered Phil.

"I think we should just try to erase all the writing, right Sherlock?" She said.

"I'm trying to think!" The man glowered, flicking through the pages like a drug addict trying to find something to get high on.

"Sherlock! You're being rude!" Mrs Hudson snapped, snatching the book from him. She opened the pages one by one, rubbing out each name with an eraser she had produced from nowhere, making sure that no trace was left behind. Eventually, the noises grew fainter and fainter outside, Dan noted, and only when Mrs Hudson got to the final name- BBC Sherlock - did she stop.

"I guess we're ready to go back into our own dimension now." She said, with an air of finality.

"Yes," Sherlock agreed, looking peeved at Mrs Hudson's hands-on attitude.

"C'mon Sherlock, let's go." John said peacefully, wrapping his arm around his lover's waist. They stood there in solemn silence as Mrs Hudson scratched away the final name.

"Goodbye dearies... get home safely..." Mrs Hudson's voice faded away as the characters melted into nothing.

They were gone.

To Phil, it felt like a very strange dream. He pinched himself in a comical fashion just to make sure.

Quickly, to check that everything had worked, the boys ran out of the Reading Room, through the maze-like corridors, up even more flights of stairs, up and up and up and up onto the Library roof that overlooked London.

The sight was breathtaking.

"Phil..." Dan gasped, looking out on the wrecked city. Phil didn't respond; he was speechless.

The city was destroyed, to put it kindly. There was not a building in sight that didn't glow like some enormous ember, or that was blackened or crumbling like an ancient coal mine. Smoke rose like ghosts into the lightening sky, while mortal, non-fictional people moved around like irritated ants, some were limping, some lay unmoving. It was a tragedy. Everywhere there was grey: no trees, no colourful advertisements; every car lay upturned like dead animals. The skeletons of places that were once beautiful haunted Dan. It scared Phil.

Thick, sturdy roads had been cracked and stamped on; parks were pits of ruin; Skyscrapers pieced the skyline like knives that were blunted and rusting. The whole city of London was under duress, and occasionally in the distance a siren would be heard, but it never lasted long.

Dan and Phil realised the inevitable: they couldn't stay. It was ridiculous how one night of carnage had the power to change their lives and world.

However, the boys lifted their heads up as a ray of light shone through the darkness:

Hope? An angel? God Himself? No.

Sunrise. Dawn. A new beginning. The horizon looked like someone had draped it with a coat of smooth, calming colours. A dark grey-blue stretched as far as it could before a ceremony of orange, yellow, and pink took its place. Like a tie-dye they smothered the darkness, and at the centre of all the light, the sun burned its way back into existence. An orb of friendly light searing through the pitchy smoke and ruin, casting entrancing glimmers and shadows through the ribs of the buildings. It was glorious.

In that moment, Phil looked at Dan with a new kind of feeling: hope, belonging. In this catastrophic world he had found a little bit of peace, and that was good enough for him.

Dan felt the same, though he knew he would miss his old life. Despite the pain and loss, though, he had now been shown how much worth there really was in life. Though death was inevitable, he came close to it that night. He wanted to appreciate his time on earth, not waste it away thinking about dying.

As a final act, Dan took off the llama hat, one of his only possessions that had survived all of this shit, and threw it off, into the wind, where it soared. This was a symbol- the symbol of the end of an old life, to be replaced by a new one.

Finis