Hello everyone! I do not own Stephen King's The Dark Tower. All characters and names are used out of admiration for such a great author. I also do not own the following anime Chrono Crusade, the Get Backers, or Hellsing. This is a work of FanFiction, based off of ideas of myself and a friend of mine.

Please Enjoy,

S.O.S

Chapter 1 - Josh Chambers

Josh Chambers hurried inside the pub to escape the evening rain. He stood for a moment in the doorway and absorbed the scene. No, none of his men were here. He pulled up a stool and called for Guinness. He had just betrayed the leader of the biggest gang in the city and the only thing on his mind was getting out of town. Getting out of town and beer. He gulped at his drink and took a quick look again to see if they were around. The King had eyes everywhere. Nothing was as it seemed. He remembered some faces, but that didn't mean anything. There was always a latex mask lying around when needed. He didn't feel anything odd either. But feelings are as fickle as the wind.

As the alcohol went to work on his system Josh began to relax. He wouldn't have many more than this. He needed to be sober tonight. He needed to be sober for a lot of nights for a long time to come. The only ones you can ever count on getting what they deserve are fools. Josh hoped to God that this wouldn't prove true. He weighed his options on his future life and name. He liked ice cream, maybe be an ice-cream man. He could move to New England, change his name to Mike Wales and sell ice cream to the little kids that run through the park on Sundays. There was only one problem with this plan. He had just remembered he was lactose intolerant.

He hadn't been one of the bosses most trusted "employees", but he wasn't a born Judas. For the last few years he had been with the some mid level members on small heists, drug deals, and maybe a man hunt or two. He could have done without the blood stains. It wasn't until this night that he had abandoned his brotherhood. He had decided that the mobster life wasn't for him and he had to get out. He of all people knew how hopeless and impossible his situation was. You don't just walk to the boss, hand in your gun and wave goodbye to the guys as you stroll down to the streets to the nearest restaurant. Its either work or die. Some were given the privilege of a quick death. Unfortunately, this was not for the majority.

Josh ordered a second Guinness. It tasted even better than the last one. A man who realizes he hasn't much time left to live begins to notice the intrinsic beauty of all things around him. The sound of the rain as it fell and the clash of thunder took on almost rhythmic qualities. The smoke drifting around the pub combined with the music, almost intoxicating. The biker sitting a stool away from him was an exception. No amount of liquor could ever make him think the man was beautiful.

The door to the pub sounded as if it had just been kicked open. Josh froze to the seat and grew intensely fascinated with his drink. He waited for the intruder to grab him, bash his skull into the bar and drag him out in the streets for his execution. The woman walked across the pub and grabbed one of the remaining stools at the far end. Must have been the storm. Damn, had me worried for a second. Josh breathed a quiet sigh of relief and took another taste of his magic draught.

He weighed his options again, but all ended terribly. He decided the most he could do was drink his beer and then grab the next bus to New Orleans. It was a big city, hard to find people in. Josh took a look at the sullen faces of his bar-mates when he saw him; The man sitting at the table near the entrance.

Josh's eyes grew with terror as he quickly turned away from the man. How could he not have noticed him on his way in? He had been so sure that no one was in the bar, but his luck held true. He shook uncontrollably for a moment before he took hold of his face and tried to think of a way to get out. The entrance was covered so all he had was the back way. He would get up to use the bathroom and on his way slip down the hallway into the storage room and then make a mad dash down the alley. It was all he could think of. It had to work.

He tried to keep his eyes on the television as he finished his beer, but they kept giving nervous glances to the man near the door. He finished his drink and got up a little too quickly. Josh made his way across the rest of the pub to the hallway that led to the bathrooms. He dared not look back until he made the turn a few steps later. Upon making the turn he stole a quick glance at the room again. The man had not moved. He walked further down the hall and quickened his pace as he drew near the storage rooms. He dodged a drunk coming out of the bathroom and hurried past into the storage room. Once in he ran for the exit and ignored the shout from the bald guy with the crate and eyeball tattoo on his head. Some guys are just plain weird.

He burst through the door and made a mad dash out of the alley. He ran for what seemed to be the entire town, but turned out to be only 3 blocks. He ran further casting turning his head every few seconds expecting to find his executioner right on his tail. The man wasn't behind him, but that didn't slow him down. He jumped on the first bus he saw and moved to the center seats. He collapsed into the seat and tried to catch his breath. It was now when he realized the painful stitch that had grown in his side, and the cramp forming in his left leg. Never drink and jog. With his right hand he massaged the cramp out of his leg. He gasped for air like a claustrophobic and leaned his head against the window. He felt like crap. Not even normal crap. Like sick man in the hospital crap.

He opened his eyes and looked in front of him. He couldn't breath. There he was sitting right in front of him. Dark raven hair covering his face, and that bloody coat hiding no doubt a .45 with a bullet just for him. He sat there frozen staring at the man in front of him. He sat quite casually, never lifting his head. Honestly, he looked like a Goth punk who fell asleep on the bus after a party at the local underground rave.

The bus pulled to a stop to let more passengers on. Josh didn't even think as he rushed for the door and knocked the woman with the boxes out of his way. They would buy him some time, Goth boy would have to do the same.

He jumped off the bus and splashed into the gutter. Ignoring the cold water sinking into his boots he ran. He encountered no obstacles in his path. The streets were always clear on a death-day. He ran for another block until the stitch in side commanded him to stop. Life's a bitch, and then you die. He could see Goth boy a block back under the street lamp. He started to move again, but the pain slowed him down. He slipped into the nearest alley and pushed on towards the chain-linked fence in front of him.

Josh could see his escape right before him and gave everything he had to get over that fence. He slipped on the wet trash and fell. He struggled to stand. He was on his knees, preparing to stand, before he felt the presence of the man behind him. He could see the faint reflection of the man cast off by the streetlights outside in the murky water in front to him. Josh slowly turned to face his executioner. The last sight that flashed before his eyes, were the crimson eyes of a monster.

And thus Josh Chambers too came to acknowledge the presence of the Red Death.