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whats this?! Eddsworld?!

//indeed my children. tord is my son and i love to hurt him. >:3 -Nat//

TW: Gore? Sad Tord

Part 1.

As his eyes snapped open he took a deep, shuddering, gulp of air that burned its way down his throat leaving him to suffer a coughing fit. His body was wracked by coughs and his lungs heaved for air. When at last the coughing had ceased the first thought that entered his mind was, Ow, which was understandable. He could feel intense lightning bolts of pain shooting up his arms, legs, and head. The pain was the most prominent on the right side of his face and his right arm. He could feel a headache ring through his skull like a loud and painful alarm.

The light that came with opening his eyes was much too bright for him, it was as if someone were shining a flashlight at his face from point blank. His eyes stung from the brightness and, reflexively, he squinted his eyes and moved, well at least tried to move, his right hand to cover his face. But instead of doing so he flinched violently and immediately dropped his arm back down to the ground upon feeling another wave of intense pain hit him. He lay there motionless and breathing heavily and waiting for the pain to ebb away until, finally, his eyes began to adjust to the brightness of his surroundings and the pain in his right arm reduced to a dull throb, keep in mind it still hurt a considerable amount.

He soon found, to his surprise, that he was laying sprawled on his back and looking directly up to a smoky grey sky. It looked as if it were about to rain. He moved his fingertips slightly and he could feel the sensation of wet grass slipping through his fingers. He also found that he himself was wet, it had most likely rained previously as well. He could also smell smoke, or maybe it was car exhaust, it probably was judging by the loud sound of car engines that could be heard.

Reluctantly, he gathered the little strength he could find in himself and painstakingly sat up so that he could get a better view of as to where he was. This was no easy task because when he pushed himself up, more jolts of pain shot through his body making his stomach lurch. But he forced himself to painfully continue until he was sitting in an upright position. He saw that he had been lying face up on the patchy grass on the side of a busy road. His hair ruffled in the wind as cars raced past him and along the busy freeway. That's why he had heard car engines and spelled car exhaust, he was on the side of a busy freeway! He found it sort of curious that not even one person had stopped upon seeing an unmoving body on the side of the road, especially since there was no shortage of cars speeding past. Maybe they just didn't see me, he thought. That was the most plausible answer, the grass on the side of the road was sort of tall so it could be likely that it had covered him up while he was passed out. That led him to a question, How long have I been passed out like this? Judging by how sick he felt it could have been days.

Then he got to really thinking, Where am I? Now that was a question that he would really like to be answered. It would give him some leads as to what to do next. But then he realized something that both horrified him and made his stomach twist into knots. How could he not have realized this important detail before? Who was he? Now he was pretty sure that was something that he should have asked himself when he first woke up. He should have realized this before. He began to internally panic, listing off the reasons why he was screwed. He was stuck, severely injured, in the middle of god knows where, and he didn't have even the slightest clue as to who the heck he was! Yeah, he was definitely screwed. He felt his heartbeat speed up considerably and his breaths became short and shallow. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him and he tried to gasp for air, making his lungs and throat burn. What should I do?! Where should I go?! He began panickingly asking himself questions. Then, trying to calm himself down, he shakily sucked in a deep breath. It worked for the most part. He began to relax, All I need to do is find civilization and then I can work from there. It grounded him a little bit to have, a course of action, so that he wasn't completely lost on all levels. It also helped him to withstand the searing pain when he decided to get up. He grunted but managed to wobbly and painfully get to his feet.

This allowed him to see that, thankfully, there was a small city or town not so far away, maybe only a fifteen minute walk from where he stood. But, he didn't allow himself to enjoy the small victory just yet, judging by his current state it would take him longer than fifteen minutes, probably more like thirty of forty at the very least, especially with his now apparent limp. Despite all of those doubts he knew that he had to at least try or he would most likely die out there. Seeing as he had no other plausible options, he began his cumbersome journey, which was in fact very painful. But, it did give him a chance to observe himself, because, really, before that point he hadn't even glanced at his own body and had only focused on how he felt. Well I guess this is better a time than any. He thought.

When he looked down at himself he found that he was wearing a red hoodie. And saying that it was a little 'Worse for Ware' was a massive understatement. It had more than a few tears in it and the already red fabric was speckled with darker crimson patches, which he knew were most likely blood stains. The right sleeve of the sweatshirt was ripped completely off and jagged where at the edge of where the fabric had been torn. This led him to his next shocking discovery. His right arm was crudely wrapped in blood stained bandages, the gauze was ripped and looked as if they had been dragged along a road, leaving them fraying. They were unraveling quite a bit and revealed patches of bloodied skin, covered in deep fresh wounds. The gashes had clots of dry blood sticking to them as well as fresh blood seeping from the wounds and staining the side of his hoodie and what was left of the bandages. Another wave of nausea hit him, the grotesque wounds made him sick to his stomach and he could feel his stomach twist. He immediately looked away, not wanting throw up the contents of his stomach because of the ghastly wounds. He could only imagine what his face looked like judging by how much it hurt. He decided to try to focus on other things that weren't so gut wrenching and started attempting to see if he could figure anything out about himself.

Well, he knew that he could speak English but he also could tell that it was not his first language. He knew this for some reason and he didn't know why.

"Åh, jeg snakker norsk!" He exclaimed, excited that he could figure out at least a little bit about himself. But it would have been better if he'd been able to remember something more important about himself than where he was originally from. Maybe it would help out in the long run. He lined up the things he now knew about himself, 1. He had woken up on the side of the road near a city, 2. He was severely injured but able to walk and move, 3. He could speak English but it was not his first language, and 4. He was Norwegian. He now allowed himself to celebrate the small victory. Maybe he would be able to figure things out!