Static Movements

11

PJ Ligouri was worrying. He was beyond angry that Phil would dare show his face. PJ also wanted to find Dan, but he had rang Chris and Dan wasn't there. The thought of what Phil could've done to the poor guy set PJ's heart alight. He'd kill that despicable man.

PJ's phone rang. The name flashed up as Tyler which was unusual because the two weren't close friends.

"Tyler."

"Nope, it's Dan."

"Where are you?" PJ hissed, concern lacing his voice.

"I'm with Tyler. I thought you might have guessed that," Dan sighed. "We're outside your door but I need to take you somewhere to meet someone."

***

Tyler Oakley frowned, his eyes dead set on the ram shackle 'house' in front of him. Grime covered the windows and a smell not unlike that of a sewer filtered to his nose. He felt like he was going to gag, especially when he saw the mass of dog shit on the path.

PJ eyed Dan nervously, wondering who this 'someone' was. The avid storyteller had never seen Dan so out of his element - the Dan he knew anyway. The 'Dan' he didn't know was used to squalors like this. Decrepit, run-down areas were where he thrived. Guns and knives could be accessed at the wave of a hand.

Dan took a deep breath. His mouth twitched, into what PJ believed was a smile, and entered.

Tyler felt adrenaline burst through his veins. A reminder of the last 'adventure' he had taken. He could faintly remember the set out of the house, with its blinding, white walls and torture around every corner. He distinctly recalled an argument which caused a domino effect, leading him to this exact spot in an awful area of London.

Plates flying from his own hand. A commotion directed at the one person he was supposed to love, but how could he? How could he love him when he couldn't even bat an Australian eyelash in his direction?

He remembers.

Luke Cutforth stopped it for a while but then, Felix. Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold up. He sees Dan Howell in his peripheral vision and he's just sat there. Not panicking. Not freaking out and directing his gaze toward a camera.

He winks at the people he's supposed to hate and a smug smile breezes over-

Dan practically shoved Tyler through the rotting doorway, an action which he cringed at. Honestly, John could've chosen a better place to spend his days. He had the money to, but Dan thought he was emphasising the dramatics.

Dan lead Tyler and PJ toward the basement; the rest of the house was bare and consisted of floor boards and unfurnished rooms. The only place fairly habitable was the basement which was okay because it drew less attention to the gun shots that were often heard (ghost stories had been going round for years - people wouldn't report anything at all).

"Dan, what are we even doing here? You call me, saying that Phil did all those, all those things and then you take me to a basement in the middle of London. This doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. Who are we even going to see? Who is this someone who wants to see us? Are you taking me to my death? And what about Tyler? He's just stood there, probably day dreaming about whatever the heck gay people dream about and to be honest I feel like the only sane one here!"

"Peej, you don't know the half of it," Dan hissed before pushing PJ into the basement and then closing the door behind them.

Dan descended the stone stairs first, warning the two idiots behind him to be careful. Tyler followed him next, resistance was futile. Like a firefly, enticed by the light. His light was the knowledge of where Dan had been. To PJ, his light was the full story.

"Sir," Hank bowed his head quickly and then backed away with his clipboard.

"Howell, how nice to see you again," John smiled sarcastically, and then peered around him, catching eyes with Tyler and PJ. "And you've brought friends."

"John Green," PJ stared in awe. "It's a pleasure to meet you again. I've always loved your books-"

PJ was cut off by a harsh scream.

Tyler went to run back up the stairs but Dan leaped on him, picking him up and placing a well concealed knife to his throat. A whimper came out of Tyler's mouth, close to that of an injured puppy.

"Don't try anything else Mathew. It really doesn't look good if you try to struggle," Dan whispered.

"What the fuck Dan," PJ exclaimed, his eyes wide with terror.

"Did he tell you about Phil?" John held back laughter.

"Y-yeah."

"Poor little Dan had to come to me years ago. It's his job and you are going to help him do his job, aren't you?"

"S-sure."

John let out a manic laugh and Hank stood there, wishing to get out of here.

***