The End of the World

I was in a mall that we have close to where I live, it didn't look like it, but it was it. I was just passing through, or at least going to leave, but for some reason I was wearing clothes that I didn't want my old asshole classmates to see me in, and for some other reason I knew for a fact that right here around this mall was where I was most likely to encounter them, although it's not even in the city where we went to school and where most of us used to live. So I was thinking about that as two of the more obnoxious slags from school suddenly turned up, but they were not obnoxious this time at all, they were helpful - not friendly, but sincerely helpful, and told me they were going to help me with my clothes, and they dressed me in a T-shirt. Just that, a T-shirt. I still had my Springer boots on, but nothing else.  Then we were somewhere behind that mall, on some open field with strawy dry grass and a few building fences of thick wire, and I was going to go through that to leave, but that fucking T-shirt fluttered up and I had to pull it down and walk reeeeeally slowly. The two slags just watched and stayed behind. Then to my right in this field there were people climbing into some underground build and I wanted to have a look at that and went into that bunker thing after them. I had normal clothes on now. Down there there were quite large rooms, and one of them had maps on the walls and a big table, like a strategy room but the people there were just everyday civilians, I saw a young to middle aged man with a plaid flannel shirt and jeans walking around carrying stuff and ordering things on the table as if he lived there. The two girls had followed me down there and were standing in the hall just outside of that room, looking in through the doorless doorframe, and then the ground outside broke open and lava came flowing out. It flowed into our bunker and into the hall and everyone came into the strategy room. There was a phone on the wall where I was standing by that one huge map, so I took that and looked up an emergency number on a list beside the phone - it was for some reason an international number and rather long and complicated - and I explained to the man on the other end exactly where we were; city, state, country, and so forth, and explained really calmly and factually what was going on: earthquake, did this and that damage as of now, lava, came from there to here, is now just so and so many metres from my feet, and so on. I wasn't really afraid either, not even excited. That whole scene vanished and I was near the north pole. The poles were the only places where ground based living beings like humans and the likes could still survive, even with all those turbulences going on, but of course only with the right equipment. We'd flown there with an amphibic aircraft which we were watering now, beside a pod-like submarine that was really fancy and which we knew contained several of the most brilliant people. They threw out a rope and pulled us two by two on a little raft to the entry of the pod, on a really stormy icy ocean surface. The first two of those people were the Doctor and his companion. The next were two unknown men. Then I knew that we (not the Doctor, companion, and the two men, but some other group of people and me) had the assignment to sort out particular German comedians in that submarine pod, to take them with us, and to kill everyone else. We went in there (I met the others of my abduction/assassination group there for the first time), and we assembled the people who were down there (it looked like the inside of an office) in groups of four or five, in a room with a big sofa, so that my colleagues could find out who they were and pick out the right ones. I was one of those who were responsible for seating them on the sofa and killing them if they weren't the right people, so whenever my colleagues didn't say "That is " or something like that fast enough (they had a list with names), I slashed their throats open with a Japanese sword. By the end, we were short of one woman whom I had accidentally killed because we hadn't known it was her. And I knew I'd killed a few of the wrong people and the wrong ones were in our selection now, but didn't say anything because I knew it didn't matter. They're only comedians, after all, not as crucial as physicians or physicists or engineers.
Then I was in the kitchen, standing by the table telling my brother excitedly what was in the big book I was holding in my hands. A story, written by Edgar Allan Poe, in which Sherlock Holmes gets to assist the Doctor in an adventure!