I ran over a small dog while driving. The moment I felt the bump, I knew something was wrong. I heard a tragic yelp from under the wheels. I stopped the car and got out. It was a Corgi puppy, no bigger than my hand, probably barely a month old. It was twitching on the ground, its spine and two of its legs crushed by my tires. The owner was a young girl. She immediately burst into tears, dropping to her knees and scooping up the puppy. In its final moments, the puppy stuck out its tongue, its eyes brimming with tears. Blood kept dripping from its mouth. Unable to make a sound, it could only whimper, using its last ounce of strength to lick its owner's face before its head went limp. The girl cried until her voice went hoarse. I felt terrible, too. The puppy was so small. But honestly, I felt she bore some responsibility for walking the dog off-leash, so I didn't want to take full financial responsibility. The girl refused to compromise with me and called the police. When the officer arrived, I argued repeatedly that the girl should be entirely at fault. However, the officer still ruled it a 50/50 split in liability. In the end, I paid $3,000 in compensation because Corgis are expensive dogs. Three thousand dollars was too steep. The more I thought about it, the more unfair it felt. Luckily, this was a rural area on the outskirts of the county, and many of the street cameras were managed by the local community board, not as complicated as getting footage in the city. I hurried to the community center to check the surveillance footage, intending to gather evidence for an appeal to the traffic division. When I arrived at the community center, no one was there, but the office door was open, and a computer was on. I decided to check the footage myself first. What I saw on the screen proved that something was very wrong. In the video, as I drove past, the girl came out of her house holding the puppy. Once my car was clearly passing by, she suddenly threw the puppy right under my tires! I was dumbfounded. And what happened next was even more unbelievable. After the girl "called the police," a white car, looking exactly like a police cruiser but suspiciously unmarked, pulled onto the road in the corner of the video. The car stopped behind a bend. A man stepped out—it was the very "police officer" who had just handled the case. The man wasn't wearing a uniform initially. Only right before arriving at the scene did he hastily throw on a police uniform, attach a siren to the roof, slap on fake police decals, and put on fake license plates before slowly driving over. That's when I realized: I had been the victim of a scam that cost a puppy's life! Who could tolerate such a disgusting waste of a little life?! I kept watching the footage. After I left, the girl and the fake cop returned to their "cruiser" and immediately stripped off all the police markings. The man opened the trunk, revealing it was full of barely-alive puppies. They completely disregarded whether the puppies would suffocate. The man pulled out another puppy, this time a Pomeranian, and casually tossed it onto the ground. The puppy yelped as it hit the dirt, breaking a leg. It limped toward the girl, as if begging for her protection. The girl couldn't care less that its leg was broken; after all, it was destined to be thrown under a car's tires. Too lazy to pick it up gently, she grabbed the puppy by the scruff of its neck and walked away. They were serial scammers! Furious, I immediately dialed 911, then walked out the door toward my car. I originally intended to drive after them, but right before I got in, I calmed down. These people were professional scammers, criminals. I just needed to wait patiently for the real police to arrive. Confronting them myself was way too dangerous. I swallowed my anger, unlocked my car, opened the door, and got in. But the moment I sat down, the passenger door suddenly opened too. Before I could react, a man slid into the passenger seat. Without any hesitation, he grabbed my arm. Then I got a clear look at his face. It was the man who had just impersonated a police officer to scam me! I never expected this guy to track me down and ambush me. Did they make sure the victim had completely left the area after every scam? He stared at me dead in the eye and asked, "Buddy, what are you doing at the community center?" For a second, I didn't know how to answer. Reason told me not to provoke criminals, so I said, "Just getting some paperwork." He nodded and said, "Show me the paperwork." I didn't have any paperwork! I could only grab the door handle, desperate to get out of there. But the next second, the man suddenly pulled a small knife from his pocket. Gripping my arm tightly, he said coldly, "You move, I stab you." I froze instantly, my mind going completely blank. I had never been held at knifepoint in my entire life. Only then did I realize movies are full of crap. There's no "staying calm under pressure." The moment someone actually points a knife at you, your brain short-circuits. You can only stare at the blade, praying internally that he doesn't plunge it into you! At that moment, the back door opened. The girl from earlier got into the car. She had completely dropped her pitiful act. She casually tossed the crippled Pomeranian aside, chewing gum, and asked, "Did he call the cops?" The man said, "Buddy, show me your phone." I swallowed hard, not knowing what to do. But right then, I saw a security guard walk out from around the corner. Terrified, I quickly rolled down the window and screamed at him: "Security! Help!" I thought that with a witness present, the man wouldn't dare make a reckless move. Who knew he wouldn't care at all. The security guard heard my voice, glanced at me, and actually acted like he saw nothing! While I was staring in disbelief, the man suddenly roared at the security guard, "You just let anyone look at the security footage?!" The security guard actually offered an apologetic, fawning expression: "I'm sorry, man. I just went to grab lunch." "Lock the door when you leave from now on! And delete the footage!" That's when I realized: this man was connected to the community board, and deeply! So deeply that the security guard could turn a blind eye even when he clearly saw me being held at knifepoint! I had no choice but to meekly hand over my phone. Even though he was the scammer, I was the one carefully apologizing, "Man, I'm sorry, I won't do it again. I don't want the money back, just consider it a tribute to you guys." He flipped through my phone and said casually, "You actually did call the cops." The girl in the back seat suddenly flared up. She slapped me hard across the face from behind and cursed, "Call the cops, my ass!" The slap landed hard on my face, making it sting, but the humiliation and pain were nothing compared to my fear of that knife! I whispered, "I'm sorry, I'll tell the police I made a mistake right now." The man replied casually, "Don't say sorry. I can't let you go." Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my stomach! I looked down. The man had plunged the knife into my gut! I could feel my abdominal muscles contracting violently. He pulled the knife out, and blood instantly gushed from the wound. My mind was in chaos. I stared at the wound, my head filled with the thought that I was going to die. I had a wife and kids, a mom and dad, but I was going to die! I clutched my stomach, my voice trembling as I spoke: "Why... it wasn't a big deal, why..." I couldn't even finish my sentence before I almost burst into tears. I was so scared. I was terrified of dying! I didn't understand why I suddenly got into this mess, or why they had to kill me over something so trivial. The girl grabbed my hair and dragged me into the back seat. The man grabbed my legs and shoved me back. I wanted to fight back, but it hurt too much to move! In movies, when the protagonist gets stabbed in the stomach, they can still fight. But when I actually got stabbed, my first reaction was wanting to throw up. It hurt so much my whole body was shaking, and I was getting colder and colder. I could even feel my body temperature dropping as I lost blood. I had absolutely no strength, shivering from the cold! I was shoved into the back seat, my vision starting to go dark. The man got into the driver's seat and started the car. The girl looked at me with contempt, like I was an animal, completely indifferent to whether I lived or died. Their reactions suggested this wasn't their first time doing something like this. I wanted to plug the wound. Even with my hands pressing on it, blood kept flowing out. Fighting the dizziness, I grabbed some stickers my daughter played with from the back seat, peeling them off one by one and sticking them over my wound. Seeing what I was doing, the girl didn't stop me. Instead, she found it hilarious, laughing continuously and telling the man to look at what I was doing. The man glanced back at me and burst out laughing too. My desperate struggle on the brink of death was nothing but a comedy to them. Weakly, I managed to stick all the stickers over my wound. Thank God, these stickers were all plastic-coated, making them harder for the blood to soak through. But eventually, I couldn't fight off the encroaching darkness and passed out completely. In a daze, I felt like someone was touching me. Everything around me was very loud. I tried to open my eyes many times but had no strength. When I finally woke up, it was already daylight. Something was nuzzling my abdomen. I looked down and saw a dog sniffing my wound! Terrified, I quickly sat up, but the violent movement caused such intense pain I almost passed out again! Perhaps because of my sudden movement, a cacophony of shrill barking erupted around me. Clutching my stomach, I finally realized I was surrounded by dogs. I had been thrown into a massive dog pen, surrounded by fences, topped with wire mesh that reached all the way to the roof. My lips were cracked, and my throat burned with thirst. A pack of dogs stared at me in confusion. Finally, I spotted a large water trough in the corner. Several dogs were drinking from it. I don't know what kind of primal instinct took over, but I crawled over to the trough, only to find the water inside was filthy, mixed with dog hair and muddy water. Even though I was dying of thirst, I refused to drink it. The psychological hurdle was too high. But I was so thirsty, and my body was alternating between hot and cold. My head felt heavy. I deduced I was probably dealing with an infection and a fever. The agony was unbearable. Eventually, I took off my sock and used it to scoop up water. I held the bulging sock as water filtered through, tilted my head back, and opened my mouth. Even if it was just a sock, it could at least filter out the dog hair and dirt. I used the sock to drink twice before I finally felt less thirsty. Once I regained some mental clarity, I began observing my surroundings. This was a massive dog breeding facility. Aside from the large circular pen I was in, there were many other similar pens. I could see mountains, and not just the foothills—I could see halfway up the slopes. Without a doubt, I was currently at a breeding facility deep in the mountains. Places like this usually need to be far away from residential areas, so the mountains are often a prime choice. While I was observing, I noticed a figure in the distance. It looked like a woman, limping, holding a phone and filming something. Because she was too far away, I couldn't see clearly. But she stopped at every dog pen to film with her phone for a while before moving on to the next. She was getting closer and closer to me. When she got close enough, I saw her face clearly and was completely dumbfounded, because I recognized this person! She was a local internet personality known as "Kind-Hearted Chloe," with hundreds of thousands of followers. She was disabled herself, but naturally compassionate. She usually made videos about rescuing sick, disabled, and abandoned dogs. She had even set up donation channels to help these poor animals. Even I had donated twenty bucks to her! Seeing her, I frantically hit the wire mesh and yelled: "Chloe! Can you see me? Help me!" Chloe was filming with her phone. She heard my voice, glanced at me, then ignored me and continued filming. My heart went cold. I understood. Kind-Hearted Chloe. We all thought she was a good person rescuing dogs, and everyone donated to her, hoping she could save more small animals. Now I realized, those sick dogs were probably all their tools. Alive, these dogs were tools to extort money. When they were about to die of illness, even their corpses could turn a profit. Chloe completely ignored me. After finishing her video, she took another dog from a different pen and said into the camera: "The little Golden Retriever with a broken leg that was abandoned by its owner last time is doing much better now. Today, we're going to continue its treatment." I didn't dare yell, because I knew that since she dared to film in front of me, it meant she wasn't livestreaming. If I dared to make a sound and ruin her video recording, they would definitely torture me again! Chloe took out a medical kit, recording a video, lovingly feeding the little Golden Retriever medicine. An injured dog was receiving treatment, while I, a dying human being, could only cling to life! After Chloe finished filming, she didn't record my cage at all, simply walking past me. Suddenly, I saw something drop from her hand. I looked down and realized it was medicine. I reached out and pulled the medicine towards me. Veterinary Amoxicillin tablets, veterinary fever reducers, and some rubbing alcohol. These medicines didn't have cardboard packaging, just the plastic blister packs. I looked at Chloe; she was still recording, acting as if she had absolutely nothing to do with those pills and had seen nothing. I quickly opened the medicine. Many pet medications are universal with human ones, just in much smaller doses. I took several pills and shoved them into my mouth. Then I looked at Chloe again. My intuition told me she was a good person, but she couldn't be associated with me, not even giving me the cardboard boxes for the medicine. To avoid causing her trouble, after taking the anti-inflammatory and fever-reducing pills, I dug a hole in the dog pen and buried the remaining medication. After taking the medicine, I took off my shirt and lured a nearby puppy to bite it. The puppy, not knowing any better, thought the shirt was a toy and bit down hard, pulling back and forth until the shirt finally tore. I pushed the puppy away and tore the shirt into strips of cloth. Then, I grabbed the stickers covering my wound. Finally steeling myself, I gripped the stickers and ripped them off. The agonizing, soul-tearing pain almost made me scream out loud. I bit down on my teeth so hard I thought they might shatter. With every millimeter the sticker was peeled back, my agony increased exponentially! Blood flowed from the wound. I gritted my teeth and endured the pain, pulling until all the stickers were ripped off! I checked the wound. It was still bleeding, but not as heavily as yesterday. Some puppies curiously approached. I waved my hand forcefully, and the wound immediately flared with pain, causing me to hunch over. Gritting my teeth again, I poured the rubbing alcohol directly onto my wound. I had been hunched over, but the moment the alcohol hit the wound, the pain was so intense my legs straightened out! Gasping for air, I wrapped the cloth strips around the wound, tying them as tightly as I could. Simply cleaning the wound drained a massive amount of my energy. I collapsed on the ground, feeling completely drained, but I still managed to dig a hole and bury the alcohol bottle before lying down to rest.
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