This is Unpleasant

Ow. Ow. Ow.

Coming to is not the same as waking up but they are related. Waking up can be casual and calm. It can be sudden. There may be a moment of panic but it tends to clear rather quickly unless there is reason for it to not.

In my experience, if you pass out or are knocked out, you tend to come to in a location different to that where you lost consciousness. The 'where am I and how did I get here?' panic is a bad thing and not always easily resolved, even when the process is gradual.

One of the other major issues with coming to is that there is almost certainly some associated pain. Did you consume more than your daily recommended allotment of alcohol before passing out? Then coming to will bring you to HangOverLand, not the happiest place in the world. Did you have an exceptionally active day, full of good work in the great outdoors? Coming to will remind you of just how active you were with the soreness of your muscles. Did you get slugged in the jaw hard enough to drop a fully grown horse? Then your face will hurt when you return to consciousness.

That's what I slowly became aware of; out of the nothingness came a dull ache that grew and grew to become an impressive amount of pain. There was nothing but the pain, throbbing and overwhelming. As my capacity to think about it engaged, I began to worry that my jaw may be broken. It didn't seem to be an unreasonable possibility. Carefully I worked to shift my jaw to either prove or disprove this theory. This proved much more difficult than I expected.

This difficulty was not down to the condition of my personage but its location. I was in contact with something that prevented motion, something that felt refreshingly cool. Groggily I peeked an eye open but that didn't immediately resolve my confusion. Wherever this was there was more dark than light. I inhaled deeply, dragging dust and cleanser into my lungs.

Suddenly everything clicked. I was lying on the floor, my left side in direct contact with the linoleum. Is this linoleum? It's not important. What's important is that I'm on the floor, facing a wall, and my wrists are tied behind my back. I've come to in better conditions than this.

Just as suddenly, I realized I'd been hearing a conversation and not really been able to focus on it. It was time for that to change. “Do you really believe any of that?”

“No, not really.” That was Ms. Chapman. The other speaker sounded like the gun man from the loudspeaker. The boss probably. Ms. Chapman continued. “It sounded like a clever story to accompany their security procedures. If you must steal it, you may be devaluing the gem by handling it roughly.”

“I must steal it. If you're lucky, I might even treat you roughly before we go.”

A note of concern lept into her voice. “You promised...”

He interrupted with a laugh. “Yeah, well, I say a lot of things.”

I didn't know if I could roll over, bound as I was. I didn't know if it was a good idea to roll over. Perhaps they'll notice and shoot me. I felt a need to see what was going on. Besides, the right side of my face needed some cool floor therapy as well.

I tucked my hands in as best I could. I adjusted my feet, hoping that I could position them in a manner where they would act as brakes. I threw my shoulder back to generate momentum. I managed to roll over without smashing the other side of my face into the floor. Much.