Every night, Pepelito had learned, Maribel went into the barn and stayed there until morning. Beatriz had been gone a month; she missed her lifelong companion desperately, and in the barn, her scent was strongest. Pepelito didn't enjoy the barn. He preferred night-time grazing in the open field he had missed for so long; he'd had enough of confinement. Maribel tried to stop him exiting, not because she feared punishment. She simply needed a comforting presence.

She nudged and licked him as he lay next to her. He'd been so happy to find her, but now he wondered if they'd broken something inside him when they cut the tips of his horns. It wasn't just humans who he didn't understand any more. Sad things had happened on this farm, years ago other cows had been taken away and not come back, but she'd never learned to fear and hate humans like he had. If he tried to tell her everything, would she even understand?

Pepelito got up and walked slowly out of the barn. He walked around a bit in the field and grazed. He got his teeth into a big tuft of grass. It was dark. This area was very quiet at night, with a forest behind the farmhouse, and more fields down the hill. But at the bottom of the hill there was a heavy truck coming; he listened to see if he could recognise the sound.

The noise filled him with unstoppable feelings and thoughts as it got closer. Shivering, he walked back into the barn and buried his face in some straw, while Maribel watched him with concern. The vehicle was getting louder; another car followed. Maribel sat up; with a growing sense of fright, they listened together as the truck parked on the track, too close for him.

Then the occupants got out.

He remembered them.

The old girl was outright alarmed; she stood up with a start and stared around the barn, before bolting out of the door, feet skittering on the ground. Her manner unsettled him but he followed her, not wanting to be alone. She started mooing loudly as the men approached the grassy hillside she now shared with Pepelito. Maybe he could run, hide somewhere in the long grass. Maybe he could leap over the fence.

'...yeah. That's him, isn't it, just like on the YouTube video.' The torch light shone in Pepelito's eyes and he backed away, cringing at the brightness.

'Yeah. It is. Look at his brand, that's a fighting bull.'

'I thought so. I'll help you catch him.'

Pepelito watched in terror as about 12 of Castella's assistants marched into the field, straight towards him. He drew himself up, hating their scent, hating their voices, hating what they'd done. He didn't feel like the big, threatening bull he was desperately trying to make himself seem.

He scratched the ground with his hooves and sent a lump of dry soil flying into a tree behind him. In the dark they couldn't see his fear as he walked backwards. Voices yelled behind him. They threw a rope around his horns, tugging him backwards. When the men pulled it hurt his back again. He tried to get free and run forward.

He couldn't.

Someone was grabbing his tail and twisting it hard. Two people had him in a choke hold. He couldn't breathe. One of them punched him.

Pepelito kicked the man pulling his tail. His hand fell away and the bull ran forward into the group of men who seemed to be everywhere, catching someone's t-shirt on his horn. The man tried to push him away, then shrieked in fear and rolled onto the ground. Pepelito slipped and trod onto the man's hairy stomach. The man wriggled and writhed, gasping for air as he crawled away.

He had to get out. Five or six people were holding the rope round his horns; more were pulling the other end from the truck. They yanked so hard he couldn't run any more without hurting his back. He mooed out in pain but no help came. Stones and twigs scratched his hooves as the men tugged him past his gate, across the gravel driveway.

'Get him in quickly. That crazy bastard in there's probably got a gun.' Someone took hold of Pepelito's tail and pulled it so hard he thought it would come off. His struggling didn't make any difference. Trusting humans had been stupid. Someone else kicked him hard in the side as he stood in front of the truck, trying to resist being forced in.

He dug his feet into the ground and kicked out with his back legs, knowing his life depended on it. From behind, someone hit him hard with a stick and he staggered halfway up the ramp, feeling blood on his feet.

He knew who that was.

He ran at the knackered out horse across the sand. The crowd screamed with delight. Maybe that would stop all these problems, all this pain, maybe the horse had something to do with it? He never liked horses, so unfriendly. Then, too late, he saw the spear in the rider's hand -

'Fuck is wrong with you?' the man spat at Pepelito as the bull tried to kick his legs. But as his tormentor waved the stick again, hooves slammed against the ground and heavy breathing grew louder. Maribel powered fast towards the truck, running straight for him, headbutting him so hard he fell into the fence and landed in a clump of stinging nettles. He swore, then let out a screech as the retired dairy cow stood on his groin.

One of the others kicked her. She pivoted towards her attacker, slamming her hind foot into the head of the man sitting in the nettles. He groaned, hit his head on a water trough and slumped into the plants. The rope slackened as Maribel scattered them. Pepelito heard them smacking her. She gave a frightened moo as one of the men grabbed her tail.

He couldn't let them do that.

As the rope loosened he reversed off the ramp towards Maribel's attackers. Pepelito tossed his head and caught one of them in the stomach. The scent of blood was powerful as it ran down his horn. The man shrieked and staggered backwards, clutching the wound. Maribel headbutted him in the back as he fell.

But moving his head so fast brought the pain from Pepelito's injuries back savagely. He tried to shuffle away backwards, thirsty and tired, as his feet stuck to patches of mud.

'Let's go, and run that cow over so we don't have trouble leaving,' one of them spat, the enclosure keeper who had beaten him for comforting Ladron.

The man Pepelito had caught with his horn scraped himself off the ground, gasping and grunting, as the bull tried to walk after Maribel, trembling with fear. As he tried to follow her the rope jerked hard, pulling his head back, dragging him away from his field, towards the truck, up the metal ramp. The cold, hard flooring hurt his feet. Unlike in Silvio's truck, there was no bedding or water. His head slammed into the side of the truck furthest from the door.

'That's what you get for escaping, toro manso,' another man said, wrenching at his tail as the rope was tied behind him. Was it the one he'd stood on earlier? He couldn't tell. He shut his eyes, crying silently.

'Let's just do the cow in and go. Come on, get in.' The enclosure keeper walked round to the front and got in, slamming the door hard. The door to the back of the truck crashed down and shook when it shut.

Pepelito couldn't see anything. He hated not being able to move. He tried to free himself. It was no use, everything he did restricted his movements even more. Ladron had known not to expect anything else. He'd given up in the end, he'd just acted how they wanted. Pepelito wondered if he should do the same.

'Andres?' Pepelito heard another guy shout, somewhere in front of the truck as the engine started. There was a soft hiss somewhere behind him.

'Andres? Wake up. Oh - fuck! Wake up! Wake up, will you!'

'We need an ambulance!'

'Don't be stupid, Tomas. Let's go, we've got what we came for,' the enclosure keeper shouted, as a chorus of honking and squawking grew louder. The man Pepelito had gored groaned in pain from the truck's passenger seat.

'Hospital,' he wailed.

'There's no pulse! He's dead!' Pepelito heard Tomas shout from outside. His whole body tensed up at the noise. Forced to keep his neck in one place, the still healing muscles were in agony. Something slammed against the door of the truck, startling him. As he struggled unsuccessfully to free himself, a clattering of wings, honking and hissing, drowned out the men's voices.

'Stupid bird. Get away from me! No!' Something hard and heavy thumped the side of the truck again. There was a loud squawk, a tremendous hiss as clothes tore and feathers flapped. Something clattered deep inside the farmhouse.

'Hijos de...get them away!' As the men shouted, there was a heavy thud, followed by two smaller ones and the sound of ripping fabric. One of the men yelled incoherently. The closest one to where Pepelito was trapped collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

'It's 5 in the morning, what's this crap, boys?' Silvio was shouting. The truck's back door slid open a crack and Pepelito took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh air.

'What are you doing to my prize winning bull, son?' Silvio snarled. He marched up to the truck and tugged the door fully open. Pepelito saw two of his tormentors sobbing like babies, shielding themselves from the geese and their vicious, jagged beaks.

Their clothing was cut to ribbons. There were gashes on their faces. A third lay on his side in the mud, not moving, as two geese with bloody bills sat on him and pecked at his throat.

'He's a rescue, how dare you treat him like that?' Silvio said in a cold voice, jabbing one of the men with a stick. The man got to his feet, slowly and painfully, his eyes wild as they stared at the lifeless corpse.

'Who sent you, son?'

'Castella,' came the mumbled reply.

'Castella? What's the matter with him, man, can't he come himself?' Silvio gave him a withering look. He walked round to the front compartment of the truck, opened the door and reached past the back seat to the end of the rope. It tightened, then slackened, becoming looser. The skin on the top of Pepelito's head was rubbed raw and he flinched as the farmer freed him.

'Dear, oh dear,' Silvio shook his head, turning towards the body of Pepelito's other torturer as it lay in the stinging nettles. As the sun appeared on the horizon Maribel watched triumphantly from some distance away. With Castella's minions looking on miserably, covered in blood, mud and goose poo, Pepelito trotted over and nuzzled her. The old girl mooed softly and headed back through the gate.

Perhaps he'd misjudged her.

'Police and ambulance. There's been an attempted livestock theft,' Pepelito heard Silvio say as he and Maribel ambled back into the field together, a single goose trailing behind them.

He could be happy here.

AN: This scene felt so fucking good to write after the previous ones with Castella and Henry ahahaha, I know it was gruesome 💀🪿🐄 🐂

Also isn't Silvio the fucking boss lol