Chapter 2: The rush and the crash.
Names are the last thing to think about as I hear the rustling behind me. A creature crawling along the ground chasing me. I try ducking in and out of some bushes, causing small scratches to appear on the part of my body not protected by my short sleeve top and cargo shorts but the adrenaline keeps me going without even noticing the pain.
I decide after a minute that the creature will keep chasing me till I stop, so I start trying to find something to delay or harm it. I manage to pull out the multitool from the backpack realising how keeping it in my pocket would help more later on.
Bracing myself for a fight, I pull out one of the tools at random, finding myself with a bottle opener. I almost stumble in embarrassment before pulling out a different one, this time a screwdriver.
Good enough, I can just point it at what I want to die and charge as I switch my grip into reverse. As I glance around, I spot a nearby tree, large enough to duck behind.
Using the tree as the turnaround point, I dash behind it, trying to calm my breathing from the moment I shove my back against it. The creature only seconds behind me crashes into the tree as if it knows I'm hiding there. The tree groans as if in pain as some splinters of wood go flying out in multiple directions some even passing close to my head.
Using that moment I turn towards the creature, stepping out trying to stab it with a flimsy multitool screwdriver. A wave of decay washes over me, the smell itself making me almost want to throw up. The creature looking like some kind of decaying human, crawling probably because one of its legs has been cut off.
If it wasn't thanks to momentum I would have been stunned still, instead I forget to put my next foot forward and end up driving the screwdriver into the creatures arm. The smell of its flesh and the sound of tearing, searing an image into my mind that I'd much rather forget. The creature lets out a howl of anger and the multitool makes the sound of metal tearing.
I push away from the creature, trying to ignore the bits of rotten skin that peeled away with my hands as I examine what is left of my weapon. The screwdriver seems like it has been torn off, but in exchange the creature seems like it has lost some strength in the arm I damaged.
I struggle to my feet as it struggles to grab me with the arm I just stabbed. I succeed, it fails.
While this might be my second victory, I don't think I can keep down my food if I stay around here, so I turn and try bolting for some of the trees. The sounds behind me now louder but less consistent.
I remember the note I made and shove the multitool into one of my pockets while making sure the bag is sealed properly. At this point the pain from the different small cuts starts to pick up, like I'm slowly being stung over my arms and face.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
JHarper
JHarper Funnily enough the character Larry came from another tabletop game I ran.
As a unique NPC he was always interesting enough for me to bring him up in other campaigns I ran, making him a core NPC I rely on sometimes for story.
He was also at one point my Desu ex machina, because I used to write stories in any setting, Larry became a person able to 'travel between worlds' to keep everything making sense.
No this character isn't Larry, even if they think so, it's just the only name they remember.
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