You are snapped to reality by a train whistle blowing. You stand in front of the //Afternoon Express//, the red paint on its wooden exterior chipping off. As rickety as it may look, it's the best way out of this ghost town. You made the mistake of waiting till the last minute to get out. It (either: "made you a good buck, but", "cost you everything, and", "holds some good times, but", "was nothing but a headache, and") now it's time to leave. You see a number of shady characters get on the train, and anyone respectable left already. Not wanting to fall behind, you [[board the train.|First Car]]You step off of the solid ground and onto the train, placing your hand on your sidearm as if it can get rid of the claustrophobia you feel. There's a good chance you get shot or robbed before this is over. You elect to stand in case you need to make a quick exit. Most of the others do the same.
The first few hours pass uneventfully. Many of the others have elected to sit, and a lot of the tension has died out. Passengers, however, keep their hands close to the holsters, even if they decide to nod off for a bit. A sudden rustling catches your attention. You look over at two people glaring daggers at each other, hands near their waists. This won't end well.
The two men pull out their guns at nearly the same time, punctuated by a loud.
(size: 15)[BANG]
As the sound rings out, people are quick to rouse and return fire, the car is quickly in chaos. you crawl prone on the ground and just make it to an (link-goto:"exit",(either: "Forward Car", "Rear Car"))You slip into the car toward the front of the train and slam the door shut, ignoring some concerning pounding and locking the door. You stroll forward, putting some distance between you and the violence. You gather some stares as you walk briskly up the train but it's better than getting shot. That is until you run into Peter Dunham. Nobody likes Pete, most of them elect to call him "Nasty Pete," but nobody hated him as much as you. You and Pete shared a property line in the cramped houses they set up for the miners. Pete was a menace always fighting with you over property lines and things that didn't matter, but what solidified your hatred was when he shot your partner. the two of you had worked together for years and all of that was gone in an instant. Pete steered clear of you after you shot out one of his legs, but now he had nowhere to go. You loom in the corridor for a while, making clear your intention so that folks have a chance to leave. Sarah Miller passes you nodding.
"woulda done it myself if I hadn't sold my gun," she says quietly.
you offer her a half smile. she was good friends with you and your partner, you're glad she's out of the crossfire.
It's clear enough that Pete won't have bodies to hide behind, so you call him out. He looks up at you in fear. he grabs his gun as quickly as he can, and you grab yours
(link:"(size: 15)[BANG]")[(size: 15)[BANG]
(if: (random: 2,12) > 4)[you didn't even blink as the bullet hit Pete right in the forehead. his body slumps over in a pool of blood. you spit on his corpse. he deserved worse. For the rest of the train ride you sit with Sarah, reminiscing about the old times. as the train stops she offers you a spot in her business venture in the city. [[you accept.|A Fresh Start]]]
(else:)[you feel a jolt of pain in your stomach as your bullet hits its mark. you place a hand on your gut and pull it back to find blood. you've seen this type of wound before, you're not going to make it. [[you slump against the seats of the train.|Death]]]]You shimmy into the rear car shutting the door as fast as you can and locking it. You turn only to come face to face with a worse enemy. Dereck King's men, who dubbed themselves the Black Fangs all have their eyes trained on you. King was the ultimate winner of the ghost town, making millions off of a protection racket he ran in the city. You were fortunate enough to never cross his path, until now. A big burly man with a handlebar mustache stands up and slowly walks over to you, spurrs clinking.
"Didn't think anyone was stupid enough to come in here" he says in a deep baritone.
you try to explain that there was a shootout in your car, but all that comes out is stammering.
the man chuckles "Whatever you're gonna say don't matter much. The Black Fangs don't take kindly to strangers." He grabs you by the collar of your shirt and throws you into the middle of the car. The wind is knocked out of you. You let out gasping breaths. He pulls his gun on you and gets ready to pull the trigger.
You squeeze your eyes tight, hoping that it's quick.
you hear a
(link:"(size: 15)[BANG]")[(size: 15)[BANG]
but feel nothing different. Tentatively, you open your eyes and look around. The man who was threatening you lies dead on the ground. Behind you stands Dereck King himself, wearing a comically large hat, balanced by the smoking gun he holds in his hand, now trained on you.
"This ride was so dreadfully boring," he says in a quiet gravelly tone. "Today you cost me a decent man. And you're gonna pay one way or another." he pulls a quarter out of his pocket. "Heads, you pay with your sweat. Tails, you pay with your blood. He lazily tosses the coin into the air. It spins a few times before dropping with your spirits
you look at the coin. It reads (if: (random: 1,2) < 2)[heads. King looks up at you with a smile.
[["Welcome to the Black Fangs."|The Good Life of Crime]]](else:)[tails. King clicks his tongue before you hear a final (link-goto:"(size: 15)[BANG]","Death")]]Years have passed since that fateful day on the train. Turns out working for the Black Fangs isn't all that bad. You get plenty of vacation time and a cut of all the pillaging you do. The Black Fangs also come with a competitive ladder that you are shockingly good at climbing. You end up as Dereck's right-hand man, Earning yourself a name that's feared by bank owners and known by any respectable outlaw. Each day you rest easy knowing that you've got a loyal family to rely on. As you close out another day of pillaging you thank the coin that set you on this road and rest for another day.
(color: #99ff99)[(size: 2)[''GAME OVER'']]Blood spurts from your open bullet wound you panic as blood pours into your lungs, choking you from the inside. As your vision fades to black, you curse the fates that brought you here.
(color: #ff9999)[(size: 2)[''GAME OVER'']]It's been a couple of years since you started your business venture with Sarah, and everything's been going well. your business turns quite a profit. you can buy a nice house and settle into the quite life. Your gun now sits framed on the wall, filled with too many memories to just get rid of. you drift off after a long day of paperwork, not regretting getting rid of the old excitement.
(color: #99ff99)[(size: 2)[''GAME OVER'']]