I Called a Cow My Wife and Fed Our Child My Blood

Ginny nodded in agreement with Steve. “Exactly. It’s only been a month. I don’t believe anything could happen in such a short time that would drive someone completely insane—especially not here. This place is like paradise, untouched and peaceful.”

But even as she spoke, her expression darkened, inch by inch. “Tom, I’m giving you one last chance. If you insist on clinging to this madness, then fine. Stay here. Stay at this ranch forever—with that animal.”

And at her words, Steve—hidden from everyone’s view—flashed me a triumphant smirk, his lips twitching upward with satisfaction. But I didn’t react. I didn’t even look at him.

Ginny quickly lost what little patience she had left.

“You’re unbelievable,” she spat, every word biting like ice. “You’re beyond help. Since you refuse to change, I won’t waste another second on you. Give me our daughter—now. I’m taking her away from this place before she turns into a soulless beast like you!”

When I didn’t answer, she turned on the ranch owner with fury in her voice. “Where’s my daughter? Where is she?!”

The ranch owner paled, her knees trembling beneath her. She stammered, lips quivering, unable to get a coherent word out.

“I’ve been paying you a hundred thousand dollars every month,” Ginny seethed, “to take care of him and our daughter! Don’t tell me you don’t even know where my child is. Are you hiding something? Is that it?”

Under her sharp, suspicious gaze, the ranch owner turned ghost-white. Sweat trickled from her forehead, slowly dripping down her face.

Steve stepped in quickly, his voice gentle. “Ginny, don’t scare her. The baby’s only two months old. She can’t be away from her mother for long. Aside from Tom, no one else knows where she is.”

Then he turned to me again, speaking with a look of earnest concern. “Tom, the ranch owner is a simple woman. She’s taken care of you all month, fed you, supported you. Don’t make this harder for her. Just show a little kindness and let her off the hook, alright?”

Ginny understood his implication instantly. She narrowed her eyes and pointed at me.

“Tom, where is our daughter? If anything happens to her, don’t blame me for what I’ll do to you.”

I said nothing. Instead, I finished washing the cow’s feet, then carried a fresh basin of water over to the calf. “Come here, baby. Daddy’s going to change your diaper.”

Ginny’s expression turned stone cold. With a roar, she slapped the water basin from my hands, sending it crashing to the floor.

“I’ve had enough of this!” she shouted. “Enough of your lunacy!”

She pulled a small silver pocket watch from inside her collar. When she opened it, a tiny photograph sat inside—soft and pink, the image of a newborn swaddled tight in blankets.

“This is your daughter!” she snapped. “Not that calf! Look closely. Look at her tiny face. That’s your real, flesh-and-blood daughter!”

I froze. I stared at the photo, stunned. A delicate little figure, eyes not even open yet. So soft. So fragile. And then the stench hit me. A metallic tang, sharp and thick. Blood? Suddenly, horrifying images flashed through my mind—images that didn’t belong. That same soft pink baby, torn apart by countless sharp teeth. Her cries silenced before they could even begin. Her blanket soaked red. It was as if a blade was being driven into my chest, not once but over and over, slowly scraping through bone, tearing at the rawest parts of me. Every cut slow. Every wound dripping. I jolted, breath catching in my throat. In the distance, I heard a faint moo. Childish. Innocent.

The calf had stumbled into a mud pit again. I bolted.

Without thinking, I raced toward it, scooping it into my arms and holding it close. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s here. Don’t cry. You’re safe now.”

But Ginny came storming after me, her eyes wild with fury and heartbreak. With all her strength, she slapped me across the face.

“Tom, don’t you dare push me any further!”

The blow cracked across my cheek, splitting my lip and making my ears ring. I bit my tongue so hard I tasted blood. But I didn’t care. All I could see was the calf—trembling, scared, hurt. I did what I’d done before. With practiced ease, I opened another wound on my wrist, letting the blood flow.

“Don’t cry, baby,” I whispered as the calf nuzzled closer. “Drink this and everything will be alright…”

“Oh my God!”

Gasps rang out around me. Ginny stared at me like she’d just been struck by lightning.

“Tom—what are you doing?!”

“All I did was send you and the baby here for a one-month break. Was it really that unbearable?” Her voice cracked with a mix of rage and disbelief. “Did it hurt you that much—to the point where you can’t even tell humans and animals apart? You’d go so far as to harm yourself, just to disgust me?”

Furious, she lunged and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking it hard. The pain shot through my scalp and something cracked sharply in my neck. But I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t feel a thing.

I just sat there, cradling the little calf, gently feeding it my blood while stroking its back.

“It’s okay, baby,” I murmured. “Daddy’s here. Don’t be scared.”

And then, after a brief moment of silence, Ginny let out a cruel, bitter laugh.

“Well done, Tom. You really committed to the act this time. Let’s see how long you can keep playing this delusional little drama… after I roast your precious cow child alive.”

Before I could stop her, she ripped the calf from my arms. I lunged after her in a panic, but Steve and the ranch owner pinned me to the ground with brutal force. I struggled, thrashed—but I couldn’t break free.

The fire crackled to life and the iron plate was heating fast. The calf, its legs tied, began to cry out in pain. Mournful moos rang through the air as its wide, tearful eyes locked onto mine, desperate, confused. That look. That innocent, questioning gaze—it brought back a flood of memory. I saw it again. That fleeting second. The moment my daughter—soft, pink and new—looked up at me just before her tiny body was torn apart by gnashing teeth.

“No—no, don’t be scared! Daddy’s coming!”

I didn’t care that my arms were already broken, twisted unnaturally by the struggle. With a scream, I hurled myself onto the searing iron plate, crashing through Ginny’s shrieks.