You Better Catch It

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Not requested.

Ship: None

Category: Adventure

Warnings: Forced captivity

Summary: Roman Prince stumbles upon an odd town in the middle of the desert, only to find the inhabitants aren't exactly there voluntarily.

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Roman Prince stumbled through the endless flat landscape, sweat dripping from his forehead and his mouth ajar. His tongue was dry, and his eyes watered. Every breath of sandy air was jagged glass in his lungs. He didn't know exactly how long he had been trudging through the desert, but he was about to drop dead from heat exhaustion. In the distance, buildings shimmered in the heat, and he wondered if he was truly delirious.

But when he reached out with shaking hands to touch the sign that read, "TURN BACK", his fingers brushed coarse wood.

He staggered into the saloon, shoving aside the doors and ignoring the baleful glares from the occupants. He collapsed into a seat.

"I'll have water," he croaked.

The bartender nodded. He wore a cardigan over his shoulders.

Once he had received his drink, Roman gulped all of it down in one swig and set the glass down on the counter. More alert now, he glanced to the side to find someone staring intently at him. The stranger wore a black jacket and black jeans, which was odd, since it was over 100 degrees that day.

Roman raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm Virgil, and you made a mistake coming here, traveler," the stranger said gravely. There was black stuff smudged under his eyes, and as Roman looked around, he noticed everyone else sporting the same thing.

"How's that?" Roman asked. He untied the red sash from around his neck and wiped off his forehead.

"This town has been cursed by the Deceiver himself," Virgil replied, voice empty.

"I'm not one for superstition," Roman said easily, with a wry grin.

If Virgil saw the humor in his statement, he didn't show it. "Believe what you want, Roman Prince, but a train passes by tomorrow, and it never stops. If you want to keep your soul, you better catch it."

"And if I don't?" Roman decided to play along, for fear of angering the shady-looking Virgil.

"Well, then," Virgil smirked, but it held no mirth. "You'll be trapped here, like the rest of us. Forever."

And Roman swore he watched Virgil's left eye flash yellow.

"He's telling the truth, Roman," the bartender said quietly, once Virgil had turned away. "I'm Patton. I recommend you listen, and get the hell out tomorrow, while you still can."

It was only after he had left did Roman realize he never told them his name.

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Roman woke early the next morning to an ear-splitting train whistle. He immediately lunged out of bed and burst out onto the street. A few others like him, looking panicked, were doing the same. He ran faster than he ever had before after the quickly deserting train. The weaker people were falling behind.

Someone kept pace with him, wearing a black shirt and a blue tie. "There's only room for one!" the man shouted over the rumbling train. "I'm truly sorry!" And with that, he tripped Roman and vaulted himself into the last train cart, landing smoothly and safely inside.

Roman fell and tumbled back, hitting the ground hard and busting his lip on the tracks. He struggled to sit up, glaring hatefully at the smug man, who gave him an insincere apologetic look from the train. He wiped the blood off his lips.

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Roman trudged back into the town hours later, defeated. He was limping, his leg aching from his fall. He inwardly cursed the stranger.

A shadow fell over him. Glancing up, Roman found himself looking straight into a yellow eye. He jolted back with a gasp of fright.

The man wore a black coat with yellow trim, despite the heat. A black bowler hat sat upon his head, and yellow gloves fit snugly on his hands. One side of his face was covered in green snake scales and a yellow slitted eye, while the other side was normal. Every step he took stirred up yellow dust, which was strange, because Roman had never seen dust of that color before.

Heart pounding, Roman skirted past him and into the saloon, where he sat down near Virgil.

Virgil gave him a sympathetic look. "Didn't get out, didja? Better get comfy."

"Hey handsome."

Roman whipped around to find the stranger sitting beside him, lips quirked upwards.

"What are you doing in a little ol' town like this?" the stranger drawled. He raised a finger, and Patton slid a drink on front of him. To Roman's surprise, he stuck a gloved finger into the liquid, and watched it slowly turn from clear to red. "Amateur magic trick," he dismissed, still smirking.

"What do you want?" Roman demanded, but his voice was quivering.

"I want you to stay," came the long hiss. The stranger leaned forward, gripping Roman's shirt tightly, possesively. "Don't you wanna stay?"

His gaze was hypnotizing. Roman opened his mouth to agree, but then a faint sound reached his ears. A train whistle.

"Looks like you got yourself a rare second chance," Virgil called.

Roman jerked away from the stranger and bolted, shoving the doors aside and sprinting for the train. He skirted around buildings and wove past fences until he was right behind the last car. He could hear enraged shouts behind him, but his rapid gait never faltered. He chanced a quick glance, and found the snake-eyed stranger standing on the tracks, his eye glowing with fury. The sand was bright yellow, stirring up in great clouds that seemed to be chasing Roman. Fine sand nipped his heels and burned his eyes, but before he could be taken by the dust devil, he launched himself forward and landed in the car. He pulled himself up quickly, and scooted back, panting.

The yellow storm receded, but grew in height until it had engulfed the entire town, obscuring the stranger within. The sand slowly settled down, revealing an empty stretch of land, as if the cursed town had never existed in the first place.

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