Staying alive

The sterile scent of disinfectant clawed at my nostrils, a stark contrast to the lingering metallic tang of blood that still, somehow, clung to the back of my throat. White. Everything was white. The sheets, the walls, the impossibly bright ceiling tiles. I blinked, the harsh fluorescent light stabbing at my eyes. A hospital. Of course. Not that I remembered getting here. The last thing I recalled was the shattering roar of glass, the sickening crunch of bone, and then… darkness. A deep, consuming void.

A nurse bustled in, a vision in starched white, her smile practiced and a little too wide. “Mr. Stamp! You’re awake. That’s wonderful news.”

I grunted, testing the waters, my voice a gravelly whisper. “What… what happened?”