Prose Laboratories (V. 1, Pt. 2)

I have the feeling if a dragon wasn't raging through the building, I would have in big trouble. Well, I probably will be, but who knows! 

After my sarcastic saying that there is a dragon on the loose, chaos broke out, Lonely and Bunny screamed and got out of the room like a roadrunner, as they were probably the closest to the dragon(besides me). Zikeda didn't even look up from her work. PhynneBelle and MilesNowhere turned and promptly ran out of the room, followed by PaulDChambers and JamesMByers with a look of pure terror on their faces. Mnezz grabbed Zikeda and Herman20 and went with CreativeChaos. Jumotki, Chained in Shadow, and SelfTitled were standing in the doorway staring in awe. RubyPond was behind them, looking like she wants to rip someone's head off. 

Snowshoerabbit was standing, no, jumping in place next to me. OnyxCity seems to have disappeared. Harry_Situation was quickly talking with Sandflea68 as they were slowly backing away from the lumbering figure that was rapidly growing in size. 

The dragon had crawled out of the broken Machine room and totaled the library, and quite a few desks and computers. I could see its bright green eyes stare into my blue-gray ones. 

Sandflea68 and Harry_Situation turned to me. "How in the world did this happen?" Sandflea68 whispered to me, so the creature wouldn't hear.

"Um, well, I tried to make mini dragons, but apparently the Machine didn't read it right?" I ended in my usual shrug. Sandflea68 and Harry_Situation looked utterly confused. 

"Didn't read it right? How is that even possible? It always reads the paper right!" Harry_Situation somewhat screeched. I was about to reply, but was interrupted by a raven haired woman rushing through the door.

"Don't worry. They are on the way," OnyxCity panted, obviously tired from sprinting a great distance.

"Who are they?" Sandflea68 and I asked her in unison. 

"They as in the heroes of our city. I know one. I won't tell you which though, but I called them, and they are on the way." I looked her up and over, never expecting her to know one of the famous superheroes of our city. We stood in silence for a few moments, while  backing up from the fiery beast. The desks and books were aflame, and heat was radiating strongly from the source. 

Quickly, a few flames went out, and a small grunt came from behind us. We whipped our heads and bodies around to see what it was. 

Four figures had descended from a broken window of the large room. The one who was crouched was dressed in a deep red, nearly black cloak, and I couldn't see their face. There was a teen with shoulder length, wavy black hair dressed in a blue sweater with black leggings and a blue beanie. Standing next to her, the teen, was a child. He had a goofy grin with missing teeth and messy brown hair. Dressed in a bright, sunny yellow shirt and cape, he was a polar opposite of the cloaked one. Behind them, a man with gray hair was floating. His face creased and hardened from seeing too much war and bloodshed. A black suit with a green tie that matched his emerald green eyes encased his body. 

"I am A," the cloaked person grunted, standing up. 

"17," the teen spoke.

The young child's smile grew, "I'm YoungWriter."

"And I," the oldest one said clearly. "I, people, am SalingerTwain."