She Sacrificed Me To The Wolves

During my summer temp job at the mountain wildlife preserve, my girlfriend’s guy best friend illegally smuggled fruit into the primate zone, triggering an aggressive monkey stampede. To save him, both of my legs were crushed and severely injured. Yet instead of checking on me, my girlfriend shielded her terrified best friend, turning on me with eyes full of accusation. "Can’t you see he’s traumatized?" she snapped. "I was just looking out for Keaton while he was visiting! Did you seriously pull that stunt on purpose just to scare him like this?" The pain was so excruciating that cold sweat drenched my spine, but I didn't waste my breath arguing. Then the wolf pack began to move in. My girlfriend shoved me into a dilapidated guard station, then helped Keaton into the armored patrol truck. "You’re a certified ranger," she said, her voice hard. "You’ve had safety training and you're built tough. A few minutes in here won't kill you." "Keaton is a visitor. He was bitten by a dog when he was a kid and has severe trauma. He has to leave first." When I just kept my head down, silent, she let out a cold, mocking laugh and locked the heavy door from the outside. "You’re a grown man, Cody. Must you throw a pathetic jealousy fit right now?" "Fine. Stay in here and think about what you’ve done tonight!" To make sure no one rescued me early, she turned off my radio’s signal before speeding away in the patrol truck. What she didn't know was that the back window of the old outpost had a massive hole smashed through it—and a pack of wild wolves was staring directly at me, eyes gleaming in the dark. What she knew even less was that both of my hips were dislocated. I had zero physical ability to fight back. Watching the system’s world-exit progress bar creep to 99%, I softly closed my eyes. … The moment the alpha's fangs tore through my carotid artery, my soul detached, floating into the air above the canopy. Inside the cab of the speeding patrol vehicle, Keaton’s needy, high-pitched voice echoed. "Kendall, is that... is that what wolves sound like? It’s so terrifying!" The softness in Kendall’s voice was something I had never heard in all our years together. "You’re safe, sweetie. We’re in the armored truck. They can't touch us." Keaton glanced into the rearview mirror, putting on a show of timid concern. "But... we left Cody all by himself back there. Won't he be in danger?" At the sound of my name, Kendall sneered. "What danger could a grown man like him possibly be in?" "Those old wolves in the northern quadrant are fed by the keepers every single day. They’re too lazy to move." "Besides, he’s a senior ranger inside an outpost. Even if the pack did go wild, they couldn't touch a hair on his head." "He’s just bitter that I put you first. He’s trying to force me to crawl back and apologize." Suddenly, the dashboard radio crackled with static. The anxious voice of Hank, the veteran night-patrol ranger, broke through the speaker. "Supervisor Kendall! The thermal camera near the abandoned northern outpost just picked up heavy pack activity." "Is Cody still out there?" "I’m heading over with a squad right now!" Kendall slapped the steering wheel’s push-to-talk button, shutting him down instantly. "Hank, take your team to the south quadrant and find the backpack Keaton dropped earlier." There was a stunned silence on the other end. A long two seconds passed before Hank spoke up again. "But Supervisor Kendall... the wolves—" "Why would the wolves move?" Kendall interrupted impatiently. "Cody is just making noise on purpose because he’s throwin' a temper tantrum over another guy." "Ignore him. Let him sit in there and reflect." "When he comes to his senses, I’ll go pick him up myself." I hovered over the roof of the truck. My heart didn't even ripple anymore. Keaton let out a soft, delicate sigh. "Kendall, don't be so hard on Cody." "He’s your boyfriend, after all." "He probably just cares about you too much... that’s why he’s using these petty tricks to get your attention." Kendall reached over, slinging an arm around his shoulders with a heavy sigh. "Gosh, if he had even half your emotional maturity, I wouldn't be this exhausted." "Come on, let me take you to the clinic first to get that leg checked out." On the radio, Hank was still hesitating. "Supervisor Kendall, what if it’s real?" "Maybe I should just drive by the outpost for a quick safety check—" "Hank, do you have trouble following orders?" Kendall’s voice turned ice-cold. "Am I the head supervisor, or are you? That outpost is a fully sealed bunker made of reinforced glass. He is a hundred times safer in there than anywhere else." "If he loses a single hair, I’ll take full responsibility. Got it?" She slammed the call off. Kendall seemed convinced that this cruel lesson would force me to reflect on my behavior. She didn't know that the reinforced glass on the back wall had been smashed open a month ago by a fallen oak tree. And she certainly didn't know that my corpse had already been dragged out of the hut by the pack, disappearing into the dense, dark thicket. At that moment, the system’s mechanical chime echoed inside my consciousness. [World Exit Progress: 100%.] [Faint emotional fluctuation detected. Delaying final extraction process.] The patrol vehicle pulled up to the door of the preserve’s medical clinic. Kendall jumped down first. She hurried around to the passenger side, carefully helping Keaton out as if he were made of fine china. Keaton put on a reluctant face. "Kendall, let me go, I can walk on my own." "If Cody finds out about this, he’s going to start another fight with you." Kendall refused to loosen her grip, holding him tight as they walked inside. "A tree branch scraped your leg! What if it gets infected?" "You’re my best friend and a guest here. You got hurt on my watch, and I’m taking care of you." I drifted in behind them, following into the exam room. The doctor on duty was a veteran in his late fifties. Seeing Kendall rush in like the building was on fire, he looked startled. "Supervisor Kendall, what happened?" "Quick, check his leg!" Kendall eased Keaton onto the examination table, her voice frantic. "He was attacked by primates earlier and took a hit to his leg." The doctor leaned in to inspect it. On Keaton’s smooth calf, there was a faint red mark—less than an inch long. The skin wasn't even broken. The doctor went quiet for a moment. "Supervisor... this mark..." Kendall’s face tightened with sudden panic, her brows knotting together. "What is it? Does he need a tetanus shot?" "Does it need stitches?" The doctor shook his head slowly. "If you had brought him five minutes later, it probably would have healed on its own." Keaton cleared his throat awkwardly. "Kendall, I told you it was nothing..." Kendall, however, wouldn't drop it. "No, we need to sanitize it with iodine." "His immune system is sensitive, and he has severe childhood trauma from a dog bite. What if he develops a fever?" Resigned, the doctor pulled out a cotton swab, dipped it in iodine, and gave the faint red mark a gentle dab. "There. Just keep it dry." Only then did Kendall let out a sigh of relief. She turned to the water cooler, poured a cup of warm water, and held it up to Keaton’s lips. The movement was so practiced, so effortless, as if she had done it ten thousand times. "Drink some water. Calm your nerves." Keaton took a sip, then casually brought it up again with an anxious tone. "Kendall... is Cody really going to be okay?" "I’m still a little worried about him." Kendall pulled up a chair and sat down, idly flipping through the medical log on the desk. "What could possibly happen to him?" "He’s built like a ox." "During the preserve drill last month, he sprinted two miles carrying a fifty-pound sandbag." "Even the wolves couldn't outrun him." I stood by silently, listening to her words, my mind drifting back to three days ago. I had been running a 102-degree fever, shivering so hard I couldn't get out of bed. Kendall had said to me over the phone: "You’re a grown man and a lead ranger. Your immune system is way better than average." "Take two Tylenol, sleep it off, and you'll be fine." "I have to host Keaton’s birthday party tonight, so take care of yourself." Back then, my eyes would go red and I’d swallow my tears under the covers, forcing a bitter smile. Now, I didn't even have the urge to smile. The radio on the desk buzzed with static again. It was Tim from the south patrol. "Supervisor Kendall, we checked the south zone. Keaton’s bag isn't down here." "But I just passed through the control room and checked the thermal feed in the north quadrant." "The area around that old outpost is lit up bright red. Looks like a heavy concentration of large predators... and thermal imaging shows them dragging a large human-shaped object." "Should I sound the general alarm?" Kendall snatched the radio, her voice sharp and stern. "Sound an alarm? Do you think tonight isn't chaotic enough?" "How much did Cody pay you guys to pull this pathetic little stunt together?" Tim panicked. "No, Supervisor! Thermal imaging doesn't lie!" Kendall scoffed coldly. "Why wouldn't thermal lie?" "If he turned on the old space heater inside the post and set a mannequin next to it, it would look bright red on screen!" "I know his manipulative games inside and out." "Listen to me carefully: nobody sets foot in the north quadrant tonight." "I want to see just how long he can keep up this performance all by himself." Under her strict authority, the radio went completely dead. Silence settled over the clinic once more. Suddenly, Keaton rubbed his stomach. "Kendall... do you remember that late-night clam chowder spot downtown? Back in college, we used to go there all the time." "After getting such a fright tonight, I really find myself craving a hot bowl of it." He kept it vague. He didn't outright ask her to go get it, but Kendall caught the hint immediately. She glanced at the wall clock. 2:00 AM. "That’s easy. I’ll go grab some for you right now." The doctor frowned from his desk. "Supervisor Kendall, downtown is over twenty miles away." "If you drive there now, it’ll be dawn by the time you get back." "You’re the only supervisor on duty tonight. If something happens—" Kendall cut him off. "What could possibly happen?" "The animals are secured, and the guests are all back in their cabins." "The only wildcard is Cody." "As long as nobody entertains his little tantrum, he’ll get tired and stop." She grabbed her car keys and strode out the door. Just as she reached the threshold, Hank’s frantic, terrified voice exploded through the radio speaker. "Supervisor Kendall! Supervisor Kendall!" "I disobeyed your order and snuck over to the north quadrant!" "Something terrible happened!" "The grass outside the outpost... it’s covered in blood!" "Massive, soaking pools of blood!" For a second, I thought Kendall would finally realize I was gone. Instead, she snapped into the radio with venomous frustration. "Hank! I specifically ordered you to stay away from the north quadrant! Do my commands mean nothing to you?" Hank was practically crying on the other end. "Supervisor, I swear to God it’s real blood!" "There are torn pieces of uniform everywhere!" "Cody’s been attacked!" Kendall let out a cold, disgusted chuckle. "Cody’s jealousy games are getting more creative by the day, aren't they?" "To force me to come running back, he actually dared to steal fake blood from our emergency supply kit?" "Tomorrow morning, I’m pulling the warehouse security logs to see how much he took." "And the shredded uniform? He probably cut it up himself." "A grown man pulling a self-harm pity party... isn't he embarrassed?" Hank was hyperventilating. "Supervisor, it’s not supply-kit blood! The copper smell is sickening!" "And the outpost door is locked from the outside. I can't get in!" "Should I smash the door down?" Kendall’s expression darkened completely as she barked orders. "Use your brain, Hank! That’s a reinforced steel blast door. If you can't break it, how could a pack of wolves get inside?" "Hank, as chief safety officer, I am ordering you right now:" "Vacate the north quadrant immediately!" Only heavy, ragged breathing came through the radio. After a long pause, Hank gritted his teeth and replied, "Fine. I’m leaving." Kendall turned back to Keaton, satisfied, her tone lightening instantly. "See that?" "That’s who Cody really is. Zero boundaries when he wants to throw a fit." "Don't worry about him. I’ll go get your chowder now." Keaton smiled innocently. "Thanks, Kendall." I drifted in the air, watching Kendall walk out of the clinic with total confidence. She left cleanly, without a single shred of hesitation. She was utterly convinced I was acting. Convinced that tomorrow morning, I would show up at her office, defeated and humiliated, begging for her forgiveness. She had calculated everything. Except one thing. I was already dead. Just as dawn broke over the mountains, Kendall returned, carrying a hot thermal container of soup. She had just handed it to Keaton when her phone rang. It was the Preserve Director. "Kendall, what the hell is going on over there?" "The morning shift just reported heavy predator activity near the old north outpost!" "The whole ground is soaked in blood!" "You were the night supervisor—why wasn't this reported to me?" Kendall’s expression flickered, but she quickly regained her composure. She glanced at Keaton, who was quietly eating, and lowered her voice. "Director, don't listen to rumors." "It’s just Cody acting out." "He threw a fit last night and spilled some animal blood outside the post to get my attention." Before she could finish, the Director’s voice erupted through the phone in pure fury. "Kendall, have you completely lost your damn mind?" "Security camera caught human remains! Severed limbs, Kendall! Do you hear me?" "The police are already on their way. Get your ass over to the north outpost right now!" The Director could not have been clearer. Yet, as the screen went black, Kendall scoffed, whispering to herself in disbelief. "Human remains now?" "Cody, Cody... to throw a jealousy fit, you really spent big bucks, didn't you? Did you buy raw pork from the butcher shop?" Keaton set his spoon down, looking up nervously. "Kendall... what happened?" Kendall patted his shoulder. "Nothing." "Cody blew things out of proportion and dragged the Director and police into his little scene." "Come on, let’s go to the north quadrant together." "Today, I’m going to expose his sick prank in front of everyone." "And then I’m going to make him give you a proper apology." Keaton nodded meekly, following Kendall out of the clinic. Fifteen minutes later, Kendall stood looking at the dark red stains outside the outpost, clicking her tongue. "Looks pretty realistic, I’ll give him that." She strode up to the outpost, pounding hard on the steel door. "Cody, stop playing games!" "The police are almost here! If you come out right now, I might still speak to the Director on your behalf!" There was no answer from inside. Kendall scoffed, pulling a heavy key ring from her pocket. "You think locking it from the inside keeps me out?" "I locked this door from the outside, and I’ve had the spare key the whole time." She jammed the key into the lock and turned it twice. "Cody, get your—" The heavy door swung open, and the words froze in her throat. Inside was a massive pool of dark, congealed blood—and a mangled human arm. Kendall stared fixedly at the silver ring still resting on the finger of that severed hand, suddenly letting out a short, hysterical laugh. "Cody, where did you buy a prop hand like this?" "To scare me, you actually went this far?" She raised her head, scanning the surrounding brush, shouting at the top of her lungs. "Cody, stop acting like a ghost! I know you’re hiding out there!" "You think putting your ring on a prop hand can trick me?" "Your little parlor tricks won't work!" At that moment, several police cruisers sped into the quadrant, siren lights flashing against the trees, sealing off the crime scene. The forensic investigator knelt on the floor, inspecting the severed hand. From behind the police tape, Kendall’s mocking voice continued. "Officers, this is all a prank pulled by my boyfriend." "He’s mad at me, so he placed a fake hand here to pull a stunt." "You should track him down and give him a real lesson in waste of police resources." She stood there smugly, waiting for the police to agree. The very next second, the forensic technician spoke up in a cold, clinical tone. "Deceased identified as Cody Miller. Male, twenty-six years old." "Time of death: approximately twenty-four hours ago."