14
Someone was slamming his head with a mallet. Alessandro released a muffled groan and then rolled over on his back, hoping the change in position might quiet the pounding in his brain. Unfortunately, it only seemed to get worse, and now felt as though he was getting bludgeoned on his temples as well as the back of his head.
He blinked at the room around him, at least somewhat relieved that the curtains were drawn and it was cool and dark in here. Even so, every single muscle in his body ached, and his gut grumbled at him sourly.
Was he going to throw up? He really didn’t want to throw up. It would hurt too much.
Lying flat on his back and moving as little as possible seemed to help somewhat, although the room still felt as if it wanted to spin rather than stay firmly in place.
Maybe
