Timothy, or Tim as he preferred, sat on the public bus rather calm, but a smile still prevalent. This was the bus that was to take him out of state, right to his new job, to his new life away from home, completely on his own! Such an exciting time in a young man's life, and he felt it. He idly looked out of the windows opposite to him, showing the black of the highway and sky at the same time, the light roughness of the road feeling rather calming, at it already lulled some of the other, older passengers to sleep.
The trip continued in the almost contradictory calm of the night highway, until it was interrupted by the bus driver ever so briefly honking the horn of the bus. Then, around three or so minutes later, again, and longer. This pattern continued, until after the fifth time where it stopped. The sixth time, the horn didn't stop, the sleeping driver no longer letting it stop him.
The Bus careened wildly as the driver's body fell to his left, his face dragging the wheel with him, and the bus crashing into the underside of a concrete bridge, speed rapidly rising beforehand. In a matter of moments, everything was overturned and smashed together, and Timothy was violently, brutally brought out of the calm he once felt.
Weight, a loose seat on top of him making it impossible for him to move, perhaps he might have been able to if not for his other wounds. His arms hit the floor violently, he felt as though something had broken, but he wouldn't know what. His shirt felt damp with already cold blood, adding to the weight, and the small shards of glass that fell, puncturing his throat and remaining there, giving his blood another means to escape his limp body, and turning what could have been last words of some meaning into a horrid gargle, suffocating on his own blood. As his vision faded to black, he felt far too many emotions to ever give justice with any number of words.
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Awaking with a start, Timothy breathed in and out deeply and frantically, feeling his throat as though it shouldn't be there. Given his previous experience, he was right to feel such after observing himself, his body seeming to have, healed perhaps? Warily, as if the wounds might reappear, and make him choke on his own words rather literally, he spoke softly, "What the Fuck."
After looking at himself and his no longer bloodstained shirt, he looked around himself. Trees, vines, a muck filled lake, and bugs he could not remotely recognize, and is that the sight of some kind of boar? All he could tell is it seemed like some kind of jungle, from what he remembered about learning of them in middle school, it was rather humid as well.
He slowly got up, the dirt feeling odd beneath the man, so used to suburban life. His knees felt weaker than usual beneath him, and a stupor came over him, he internally asked and questioned himself on what he should do. As he wondered, something took up his sight all of a sudden, "What? This makes no sense." He said, looking as the box took up a solid portion of his sight.
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Select Your Path Warrior Mage Rogue Cleric
Before he could read further however, he was interrupted by the boar creature from earlier violently ramming into his leg, it jerking away like a hand to a hot stove, just barely enough that the boars tusks only left a gash, as opposed to his leg being fully impaled. He jumped away just barely, and after briefly hoping the blue box wasn't there, it seemed to minimize like a computer application or tab, giving him a full view of what left that now bleeding wound on his leg.
It looked almost like a boar, it's tusks looking more of hardened, worn copper than of bone. It's other features shared that same coloration of copper elsewhere, except for only its soft stomach. The two looked at eachother for but a brief moment, before the 'Boar' sniffed the air, smelling Timothy's blood, and rushing to his leg. The 'Boar' rushed with a brutal speed, Timothy barely able to react, trying to lift his leg away, only for the boar to jump and him to fall to the ground.
The Boar's teeth kept only grazing near the wound as Timothy deperately flailed, reaching for anything to save him. The Boar soon enough got lucky, and sank it's teeth around the already deep wound, creating new ones. Timothy screamed out, "Agh Fuck! Fuck!" and other angry shouts and yells. Perhaps by luck, Timothy found a large rock within his reach while flailing, and he refused to go down without a fight, throwing all his force into bashing one of that damn Boar's tusks off.
The Boar tried to shake its head, whether is was trying to take a chunk of his leg, or dodge the rock is not known, but with life on the line and the rush of adrenaline, Timothy managed to break off the Boar's tusk. Reaching forwards he snatched it quickly, and put every last bit of power into flipping himself and the Boar over. Almost failing, he took the Boar's own tusk and stabbed it through it's now exposed soft stomach, using it almost akin to a shovel, trying to kill the thing by making it's innards into outtards as soon as possible.
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Through much struggle, Timothy barely survived. He unclamped the boar's mouth from his leg, and walked over to the lake covered in sweat, dirt, and blood. As he spotted leeches, he gave a bittersweet smile, only faintly. At least something was familiar, and right now helpful. He was fairly certain that if he applied leeches to his wounds quickly, it should help prevent them from getting infected. He gathered some leeches, and stood, looking between the remains of the dead boar, the Muck filled lake, and the small minimized box at the bottom of his vision. He muttered to himself, "I can give a shit about all this some other time, when I know I'm safe. I must survive, no matter what. I must survive, no matter what." He chanted to himself at the end. "I. Must. Survive."