NTR: Mommy Will Help You! Chapter 311 311: Where Am I?

Oliver found himself in a daze, with fragmented images of his recent actions replaying in his mind.

He witnessed himself commanding guards to viciously break a man's limbs before discarding him from the club like worthless refuse.

From a detached, third-person perspective, Oliver observed these events unfold, powerless to intervene, as if watching from above in an out-of-body state.

Another scene materialized: Oliver departing the club with his companions, only to be ambushed by vengeful gangsters seeking retribution for their boss's downfall.

"Finish him! Light up that pathetic brat!" the gangster leader bellowed, ordering his cronies, who promptly aimed their firearms at Oliver's vehicle.

A barrage of bullets struck the car, shattering its windows and piercing the chassis. Oliver could perceive screams echoing around him as the terrifying scene played out before his eyes.

"Ah!" Maya cried out in agony, clutching her abdomen as crimson blood began to seep through her fingers.

Her eyes, wide with shock and terror, fijoed on Oliver. "Oliver... I... can't..." she mouthed, her voice failing as she fell to her knees and then collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

A subsequent scream drew Oliver's attention to Linda, her face contorted in unimaginable pain. A thug's bullet had struck her neck, and blood erupted from the wound like a geyser.

She couldn't utter a sound before toppling over, her vacant eyes meeting his as the last vestiges of life ebbed away.

"NO!" Oliver roared in a mixture of fury and despair, reaching out towards his fallen women, his ghostly hands passing through them, amplifying his profound sense of helplessness.

"Why?! Why?!" he sobbed, a helpless spectator to the relentless gunfire and the ensuing screams from the other vehicles.

He watched in utter devastation as the girls were struck down, one after another, while he could only stare in horror, unable to act.

An overwhelming torrent of pain, rage, and hopelessness surged through Oliver. He could only weep uncontrollably, consumed by anguish as he witnessed his beloved ones being brutally murdered before him.

"It should have been me! It should have been me!" he repeated endlessly, clinging to the desperate hope that this was merely a nightmare, a terrible dream, anything but reality.

Yet, the more Oliver cried and screamed, the louder the gunshots reverberated in his mind, and the more the sight of piled-up bodies intensified.

They were his friends, his lovers, his girls. Everyone was gone except him.

The sight was so gruesome, so horrific, that bile rose in his throat. But Oliver remained utterly powerless, save for screaming at the top of his lungs.

He was alone, surrounded by the dead, all victims of his impulsive actions. It was his fault; he had failed to protect them.

Despite his efforts, the images persisted, flashing relentlessly, forcing him to relive his sins over and over.

"Ahhhhh!" Oliver shrieked, jolting upright, perspiration plastering his forehead.

His body was slick with sweat, his breathing ragged as if he'd just completed a grueling marathon. His hands were clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. His eyes darted frantically around the room, searching.

But there was nothing. Only darkness. No sign of anyone else sharing the space.

Oliver swallowed hard, rubbing his face with his hands, attempting to regain composure.

"Where am I? What is this place?" he whispered, struggling to clear his muddled thoughts.

After a moment of self-soothing, he surveyed his surroundings. He seemed to be in a cramped, dimly lit room containing a solitary bed against one wall.

Opposite the bed, a door stood closed, and beside it, a small window allowed only the faintest sliver of moonlight to penetrate the gloom.

"Where am I?" Oliver murmured again, dazed, swinging his legs over the bed's edge and stumbling towards the door. He grasped the handle and turned.

The door refused to yield. It was locked.

"What the fuck?" Oliver grumbled, his confusion deepening into disbelief.

He had just endured a nightmarish vision of everyone he cared about being slaughtered, and now he was confined to a small, locked room?

"Let me out!" Oliver demanded, pounding on the door, hoping for someone to respond and release him.

He continued his frantic pounding and shouting, but no one appeared, regardless of his efforts. Eventually, accepting the silence, he shifted his attention to the window.

"What is this place? How did I end up here? I was just in my room at Ashford Mansion..." Oliver questioned himself, his voice barely a whisper as he gazed out the window in bewilderment.

Everything about his surroundings screamed unfamiliarity, a stark contrast to his home. Beyond the glass, an endless expanse of dense forest stretched as far as the eye could see.

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

Oliver desperately tried to piece together the events, but his mind remained a frustrating blank. He slumped against the wall, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind.

'Could I have been kidnapped? Or did they take all of us? How could they infiltrate our home so effortlessly? Was there a traitor among us?'

An endless stream of questions swirled in his head as he contemplated every conceivable scenario while confined in this sparse room, furnished only with a bed.

Just as what felt like an eternity had passed, the distinct sound of a lock turning from the outside jolted Oliver, causing his head to snap towards the door.