NTR: Mommy Will Help You! 305. Where Am I?

Amidst a fog, Oliver floated amid visions of his latest deeds replaying in his thoughts.

He witnessed himself commanding the guards to snap a man's limbs and hurl him from the club like trash.

From a detached third-person perspective, Oliver observed everything happening, powerless to intervene, merely hovering above in an astral projection.

Before long, a new vision materialized, showing him exiting the club alongside his buddies, only for gangsters to emerge seeking revenge for their boss's fate.

"Get him, shoot the little shit!" The leader barked at the thugs, who swiftly pointed their guns at the car.

Bullets rained down on the vehicle one after another, shattering windows and riddling the body with holes. Screams filled the air around Oliver as he viewed the chaos unfolding right before him.

"Ah!" Maya cried in agony, grabbing her belly as blood oozed between her fingers.

Her eyes bulged in terror and disbelief while fixed on Oliver. "Oliver...I...don't..." She formed the words silently before sinking to her knees and slumping lifelessly aside.

A second shriek pulled his gaze to Linda, her features twisted in torment. A thug's bullet had struck her neck, blood gushing out like a spray from the wound.

Unable to speak, she toppled over, her lifeless gaze locked on his as vitality drained away.

"NO!" Oliver roared in fury and despair, stretching his arms toward his fallen women, yet his ethereal hands merely phased through them, leaving him utterly impotent.

"Why?! Why?!" Oliver wept while more shots rang out and additional cries erupted from nearby vehicles, all under his helpless watch.

In utter desolation, he beheld the women struck down and perishing sequentially, frozen in terror without the power to act.

Intense pain, rage, and despair surged through Oliver's body, flooding him with feelings. He could only sob wildly in torment as his dear ones were slaughtered in plain view.

"It should've been me! It should've been me!" He kept chanting the phrase repeatedly, praying it was merely a night terror, a dreadful illusion, not reality.

Yet with every sob and shout from Oliver, the gunfire roared fiercer in his skull, and the corpses mounted higher around him.

His companions, his lovers, his ladies—all gone, leaving him as the sole survivor.

The scene was nightmarish, so gruesome it churned his stomach with nausea. Oliver remained helpless, reduced to bellowing at full volume.

No souls lingered alive near him; everyone perished due to his choices, his unchecked urges. The blame rested on him—he had failed to shield them.

Despite his efforts, the visions persisted in assaulting his mind, forcing endless replays as though punishing his transgressions.

"Ahhhhh!" Oliver bellowed, bolting upright with perspiration streaming from his brow.

Soaked through with sweat, he gasped heavily like after a grueling race. Fists balled tight, nails piercing his skin. His gaze frantically scanned the chamber for threats.

Yet emptiness prevailed. Just shadows. No trace of others sharing the space.

Oliver swallowed hard, pressing palms to his face to steady his nerves.

"Where am I? What is this place?" He murmured, striving to sharpen his foggy thoughts.

Once somewhat composed, he surveyed the area. A cramped, dim chamber held a lone bed against one wall.

Across lay a shut door, beside which a tiny window admitted mere hints of moonlight.

"Where am I?" Oliver echoed blankly, rising from the bed and lurching to the door, seizing the knob and turning it.

The door refused to yield. Locked tight.

"What the fuck?" Oliver grumbled, astonishment mounting alongside his bewilderment.

Having endured a horrific dream of losing all his nearest and dearest, now confinement in this tiny space too?

"Let me out!" Oliver hollered, pounding the door, yearning for someone to release him.

He hammered and yelled relentlessly, yet no one responded regardless of his pleas. Eventually, he ceased and shifted focus to the window.

"What in the world is this place? I was just in my room in Ashford mansion..." Oliver muttered aloud, gazing vacantly through the glass.

He appeared to be confined in a spot entirely unlike his home. Nothing lay beyond except a thick forest stretching endlessly into the horizon as far as the eye could reach.

"Why am I here? What happened to Mom, my sis, and Aunt Anna?"

Oliver desperately searched his mind for answers, but nothing surfaced. He could only slump down and lean his head against the wall while his thoughts spun wildly out of control.

'Was I kidnapped? Or did they grab all of us? How in the world did they slip into our house so effortlessly to begin with? Was there a betrayer among us?'

Myriad questions flooded his thoughts as he mulled over every possible scenario that arose, all while stuck in this bizarre room containing only a bed.

An eternity seemed to drag by until abruptly, the lock clicked from outside, jolting Oliver's head toward the door.