Hello everyone! I do not own Stephen King's The Dark Tower, nor Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child's Brimstone. All characters are used out of admiration for such a great authors. 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.

S.O.S

Chapter 3 - Deals in Shadows

The abandoned amusement park was a well known site among the people. The park had been the site of more incidents than most believed could happen in modern day tourist attractions. Most notable among the incidents was the death of a ten year old boy. It was believed that he had fallen out of the roller coaster and plunged to his death as the next train took off, decapitating him. No one got to ride the roller coaster that day.

Nor did anyone ride it again.

Shortly after the boys death a mysterious fire let loose across the park, ravaging the park of its charm and painfully bright colors. The fire had been inspected but no probable cause was found. No matches, no gasoline, not even the convenient time bomb in a Christmas present. The park was now mostly burned. No visitors came by, except for the occasional group of kids sneaking in to show off their bravado.

The Red Death walked through the gates and proceeded towards the roller coaster. Since its abandonment, the Red Death had found the place and used it as a makeshift "hideaway." The park was silent, as if terrified to speak in his presence. As he neared the roller coaster, he turned left into the employ entrances and descended the maintenance stairs to the lower levels.

Over grown centipedes and other lawn grubs welcomed him with razor teeth. These mechanical thrills had long since stopped running, and their foamy skin had cracked, revealing their metal skeletons. Further down the angels and demons did battle, as a tower thirty foot figure of Satan watched over in twisted glee. Despite the usual comical art works depicting the fallen angel as a skinny pitch-forked villain, or the hideous goat man, this particular production did him more justice.

As he passed the tower figure he could not help but stare up at the magnificently, malicious, monstrosity and pay his regards. After doing so he pulled out the cell phone in the pocket of his coat. Calling the only number in his phone book he pulled the phone up to his ear as the ringing began. Two rings later a voice came on the line.

"Yes, My servant, what news do you have for me?" said the voice with a notable tone of excitement.

"Target had been silenced."

"Excellent, excellent. Traitors are most inconvenient, but still have their uses in death."

The servant was not sure of the meaning of this, but agreed anyway.

"What is my next assignment, Master?"

"After Mr. Chambers' display I am sure the rest of the low men will keep in line for some time."

"I understand…"

"I shall call on you, my servant, when your services are necessary."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The line died as the Master hung up his phone, leaving the Red Death in the silence of the park. He put the phone back into his pocket and stared up at the dark abyss of the elevator shaft. His eyes were not like those of normal humans who were limited to the hours of sunlight as their guidance. He could see just as clearly in the night as he did during the day, an almost supernatural quality. It was fitting that such a gift be bestowed upon him. He did his work by the light of the moon, deals in shadows. The dark temptress of the night held many secrets, all of which he sought to explore

For sometime he had known he was not of the same "make" as most people. He excelled basic human potential both physically and mentally. A "superhuman" as some would say, but he knew there was more to it. His employer had revealed to him his true nature. He accepted this revelation, for it was the only one that fit. He seemed to have been created solely for such a purpose. But despite the King's words of wisdom doubt still found a way to surface. Sometimes he would ponder questions throughout the night, seeking the answer but finding none. At times he felt that his current situation was all that there was and all that could be done. Other times he felt that there was more, as if another plain of existence existed and awaited his discovery of it. He did not know which was true. All he knew was what the King had told him. He was the Red Death, and that was his work.

No more.

No less.

These thoughts came tonight as well. Except now Josh Chambers joined the many faces that interrogated him without mercy. The faces always followed. All the deaths he had witnessed and personally brought about were always before him. But it did not stop there. No, faces he did not even know would come. Thousands and millions more seemed to follow him, maybe seeking the answers as he was. Little did it matter; the answer was always just out of reach. No rest for the wicked.

As he began to drift into the subconscious, three words escaped his lips,

"What is truth?"

Another answer that would probably never be found.