Where am I?

BEEP BEEP BEEP! The alarm clock blared. Oliver pawed at it, trying futilely to disable the infernal device. With a heavy sigh he opened his light green eyes and slammed his fist down on the snooze button, finally silencing the alarm. 'Why is it always me who has to go into work early?' he thought to himself as he slid out of bed and stretched. 'It's 6 am, I won't have time for a shower if I want to get to the office by 6:30' he continued his internal monologue. Luckily he showered yesterday and you can't get the dreaded bed-head when your hair is cropped short. He made his way to the bathroom for the other parts of his morning ritual. After relieving himself and brushing his teeth, Oliver grabbed the first shirt he could find and a pair of jeans from the laundry. He glanced at the alarm clock he clobbered earlier and glared as if trying to intimidate time into stopping. If the clock noticed at all it didn't care, 6:10 shifted mockingly into 6:11. 'What I wouldn't give for time to not matter.' Oliver gave a final thought as he spritzed cologne on himself and rushed out the door.

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It would normally only take 10 minutes for Oliver to get to work with it being less than a mile away. That gave him just enough time to dip into the convenience store on the way to grab something for breakfast. He noted a large truck pulling up to the gas pump as he entered the store. The man behind the counter glanced at him as the bell above the door jingled to announce his presence. He looked like he was dozing off just before Oliver entered.

"Morning..." Oliver offered a sympathetic greeting to the clerk as he walked down the aisle to select his meal.

"It's too early to be morning." The clerk replied jokingly. "You wouldn't happen to know what the weather is supposed to be like today would you? I've been the only one..." The clerk was cut off by another jingle as two men wearing hoods entered with their hands deep in their pockets.

One of the two made his way towards Oliver while the other leaned on the counter, apparently inspecting the selection of cigarettes offered. Feeling uneasy Oliver grabbed a cinnamon roll from the shelf and turned to walk towards the counter only to find a burly bearded man blocking his way.

"Excuse me." Oliver said, stepping to one side of the aisle and attempted to slide past the man.

"Not excused." The man replied, putting a hand on Oliver's shoulder and pulling him back.

His breath reeked of alcohol causing Oliver to gag and cover his face with his free hand. 'Who gets toasted this early in the morning?' He asked himself, unsure he wanted to know the answer.

BANG! A shot rang out near the counter followed by shouting. Oliver instinctively tried to duck, only to find that the burly man who had been blocking him had a firm grip around the back of his shirt. Oliver was stunned. 'This can't be happening, can it?' 'What's going to happen to me?' 'Why me?' The questions raced through his mind, each faster than the last.

"Not your lucky day kid." The burly man said as he ajusted his grip around Oliver's neck and began to drag him towards the door.

Oliver was terrified. His arms and legs had gone limp. Something in the back of his mind told him if he didn't resist these thugs everything would work out in the end. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. He let out a soft chuckle upon realizing that he had wished for time to stop less than 10 minutes ago, he never could have imagined this would have been the result. He stared helplessly at the ground as his captor dragged him outside towards the gas pumps. He heard the click of a door opening followed by the brief sensation of flight before thumping down on the warm leather seats. 'This must be the truck that pulled up as I walked in' he rationalized as he heard the thump of the door closing behind him. He slowly sat up in the seat and looked out the window. The large man was looking back inside while his partner was running towards them shouting something. At least it looked like he was running, it seemed as if everything was in slow motion. Movement from the doorway caught Oliver's attention. It was the clerk holding a long pipe. 'What is he going to do with that?' Oliver asked himself, his opponent's were clearly armed. He watched as the clerk slid one hand up and back down the pipe and brought it up towards the closer of the two robbers. 'Oh, it's a shotgun...' He realized as a thunderous flash emerged from the barrel. He watched as the pellets screamed in a wide cone towards him. POP, POP, POP. They were ricocheting off of the doors. One of the criminals was falling slowly towards the ground. Then came a reverbating boom. It shook through Oliver's bones and again he began to feel the sensation of flight. 'What was that?' He asked himself, the clerk hadn't shot again since the chaos started. This question was followed by a feeling of intense heat on his back. His eyes focused an object on the ground, the cinnamon roll. 'I guess I don't get to eat breakfast after all.' He thought as flames consumed his view.

The news headlines the next day were filled with the tale of an explosion at a gas station as a clerk tried to defend his store from two armed robbers, three injured one dead...

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Oliver awoke to a feeling of intense heat, though oddly he felt no pain. Actually it felt quite nice. 'That can't be right.' He thought. Was he dreaming? He tried to open his eyes but found he couldn't. 'That's odd.' He again thought to himself as he tried again. 'Was it possible to forget how to perform a subconcious action like opening your eyes? It's just like breathing...' Oliver then realized he hadn't been breathing. No perhaps it would be more accurate to say he didn't even feel the need to breathe. 'What the hell is going on?' he asked himself as he tried to recall the last things he could remember. The alarm, getting dressed, the gas station, people, shooting, cinnamon roll, heat. 'That's it! I was put in the truck and then something happened...I must still be at the gas station trapped under something!' He worked out from the information he had. 'If I call for help, surely someone will answer.' Oliver then tried to scream out for help, only to find he didn't know how to open his mouth.

CLANG CLANG CLANG. Oliver felt a rythmetic pressure on his back, as if someone was hitting him with a hammer. 'Ouch, what the hell?!?' He screamed in his mind as it was the only thing he could do. He couldn't lift his arms to defend himself, or move his legs to crawl away. CLANG CLANG CLANG. Again the pain, followed by heat. Oliver simply couldn't peice together what was happening. CLANG CLANG CLANG. More pain, more heat. Over and over again, he lost count of how many cycles of pain and heat and his mind began to dull. 'Where am I?' He began to ask himself. 'Where am I?'