A/N: This story will make a lot more sense if you are familiar with The Bible's Moses and 10 plagues on Egypt. It still makes sense if your not, but it'll make a lot more sense if you are.

3rd Person POV

Dallas tossed and turned and turned that night as the nightmare he was having became more realistic.

Dallas walked in a plain, white area, seeking an exit. However, it seemed the more he walked, the farther he came from escape. He sat down, finally giving up, and fell through whatever it was he was walking on.

"Holy shit!" He said, as he fell for what seemed like forever. The second the phrase escaped his lips, he stopped falling. He looked up; nothing. He looked down; nothing.

"Where the fuck am I?" He asked out loud.

"Dallas." A deep, ominous voice called.

Dallas just about jumped out of his skin. "What?" He answered, his voice angry as always.

"Does thou not knowest who I am?" The voice asked.

"No, I don't"

"Does thou know why thou art here?"

"No!" Dallas was just ready to get out of there; he didn't have time to play "20 Questions" with someone who he couldn't even see.

"Ye have sinned."

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Ye shall asked to be forgiven and vow not to commit such crimes or suffer the consequences." The voice warned.

Dallas Winston was never told what to do. You just don't tell him what to do, ever. If you do, it'll be the biggest mistake of your life, unless he's feeling merciful. "Oh yeah? And who's gonna make me?" Dallas spat.

"On the day, it shall come to pass that the waters freshest shall run red, darkened with blood."

"What? That didn't even make sense! Speak English!"

"You have been warned." The voice faded and Dallas woke up.

Dallas POV

I sat up, real fast and immediately wished I hadn't. The room spun and my ears popped violently.

Hangover.

I reached for the phone on the bedside table and dialed the number I all but tattooed on my brain.

"Hello?" Darry answered after three rings.

"Darry, tell someone to come get me. I got a hangover."

He sighed. "Again? I'm commin'"

"Good. I'm at Buck's."

"Where else would you be?" Darry hung up.

I groaned and rolled over, letting the phone slip from my hand and clatter to the ground as the damned dream roamed in my head.

"The waters freshest will run red, darkened with blood. You have been warned." The voice had said to me, but what did it mean? Why me?

Ponyboy POV

I was eating my breakfast, when Darry came in the house half-dragging, half-carrying Dally. He was careful not to slam the door, and he put Dally on the couch gently. Once Darry was sure Dally was alright, he walked in the kitchen and headed for the fridge.

"Mornin', Kid." He said as he passed me.

"I'm not a kid." I muttered. I hate when people called me a kid; I am clearly not a kid. Kids can barely speak full sentences, I could if I wanted to, but I didn't want people to think I was a kid and a know-it-all.

Soda walked in then. "Who's callin' my brother a kid?" Soda understood, he never thought I was a kid. That's why he's my favorite, he respects me as a brother and a person.

"Darry." I grumbled. Soda looked over at Darry, who chose not to pay attention to my side comments, and walked up to him.

Soda poked Darry in the chest and said, "You callin' my brother a kid?" Darry, not intimidated, just looked at his chest where Soda had poked him then back up at him.

"Did you just touch me?" Darry asked. Uh oh.

Soda jabbed another finger at him. "Yep." He popped the 'p'.

"Big mistake, Kiddo." Darry made a fist and grabbed Soda by the arm, twisting it behind his back, then pulled Soda into a headlock. He then proceeded to rub his knuckles vigorously on Soda's head.

"Noooooooo!" Soda yelled, fighting to get out of Darry's grip. "Not my hair! Ponyboy, help!" It was no use, Soda's fighting, I mean; the day anyone gets out of Darry's grasp, will be the day macaroni and cheese will rain down from the heavens. As far as helping Soda goes...well, let's just say I'd just as soon tease a full grown grizzly bear.

This continued for a while, until Darry decided to let Soda go. "Learned your lesson?" Darry asked playfully, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Darry sounded like he was having fun. I don't know how Soda managed to do it, but he did it, he made Darry smile.

Soda scowled at Darry angrily (well, he wasn't angry. Soda never got angry at anyone, unless it was something big. His hair getting mussed up wasn't anything Soda would fight anyone over), then turned to me. "Thanks for the help, Ponyboy." He pointed to his hair. "Now I gotta fix this for another hour!"

"Ponyboy, hop in the shower, or you'll be late for the movie." Darry reminded me. I silently went to the bathroom to do so, and Soda followed, explaining all the steps in fixing his hair. He was still talking when I stepped into the shower.

I was scrubbing off when the water just stopped running. "Um, Soda?" I called.

"Yeah. What's wrong, Little Buddy?"

"I'm not-" I was cut off as a large gurgling sound took over the bathroom. Then the shower resumed spraying me, only it wasn't water; it was blood.

"OH MY GOD!" I yelled, as the dark liquid fell over me. Just then the shower curtain was pulled back and Soda stood there in shock.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?" He yelled. I didn't answer him, I was frozen in fear. He pulled me out of the tub and shook me a little. "Are you alright?"

I could hear him, but only faintly; he sounded so far off. He wrapped a towel around my lower half and only then did I come back to earth. "I think...I think it's blood!" I yelled, looking at my soaked arms.

"Come here!" Soda said. He led me out into the living room, in which the gang had just appeared. Everyone was talking (except Johnny of course) and when they saw me, they shut up real quick.

"Are you alright?" Johnny shouted, which would've shocked the whole gang, if I hadn't been drenched in blood.

The towel around my waist began to drip, making small pools on the ground. "It's not my blood." Was all I could get out before Darry came in.

"PONYBOY!" He yelled, and on another day, I would have jumped out of my skin, but right know I was already scared. I calmly turned my head towards him. His face was as white as a sheet, and it was the first time I've ever seen Darry genuinely scared. "What happened? Did you hit your head?" I could hardly answer, before he pulled me towards him and began inspecting me.

"Darry, it's not my blood." I repeated. He looked at me in confusion.

Dally, now awake and sitting up on the couch, said, "Then where did it come from?"

"The shower. I don't know; I was in there and then the shower stopped running. The next thing I know, it starts spraying me with this." I lifted my arm in emphasis.

Dally looked sick; more sick then he looked when we found Johnny in the lot that one day. "I'll be back." He said, picking himself up and walking out the door.

Darry grabbed my arm, and pulled me somewhere saying, "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." But I hardly heard him. My hearing faded and I couldn't see anything besides black. My heartbeat sped up, and I was yelling, trying to get someones attention.

That was the last thing I remember.