sand castles

prologue

This world is stale. Beaten down, dry, godless. However you want to describe it, this world is disgusting. Simply not worth living in.

Hundreds of years ago, a nuclear holocaust eliminated most of the live population on earth. Those lucky enough to survive soon found out that their babies were abominations of nature, that animals started growing out extra pairs of heads or legs, and crops barely set root in the ground.

But like all living things, human beings are made to strive for breath, want to survive and lead a life even in the harshest conditions, even when it meant turning desperate for the most basic of things. And with time, the birth rate got higher and agriculture was reborn. Earth was always the optimist kind.

The water supply got cut from their village. Again. There are numerous reasons for that to happen. Sometimes, the suppliers stop the water from flowing to them because the village hasn't paid on time, sometimes because they haven't felt like it or forgot, but most times it's because there's no water to supply.

This time, it's different. Everyone can tell, even the few kids who usually scream for food, chasing each other with rusty metal pipes in hand. The wind blows between the concrete buildings, punctuating just how quiet it is.

"Looks like a storm's heading our way," says some smart-ass for Taehyung to overhear. Tumbleweed, his too big of a Cane Corso hound, makes a sound like sighing which Taehyung can relate to.

"No shit, genius," he murmurs in response, quiet so he won't get beaten up. The air is so stale and suffocating, even the scarves and gas masks everyone have on don't help much. Small sandstorms form in open areas, and stray, dried up branches make a slight whooshing sound as they glide on the ground.

"The question is, what kind of storm?"

Coming from anyone else, these words would sound pretty fucking pretentious. Coming from Namjoon, the words breed a stinging anxiety in Taehyung's chest.

"What'dya think?" Taehyung finally asks. He was busy polishing his machete, but stopped in order to glance at Namjoon and the person standing next to him. Hyungwon, with his scarred face and bullet-pierced body. Good thing Taehyung has murmured his previous comment, because Hyungwon's temper was as short as daylight hours around here.

"I think someone's going to get swallowed up this time. We've had it easy for too long." Namjoon looks off at the distance, as if waiting for a swarm to come hurling their way.

The guy was kind of a village prophet. In Utopian Times, maybe he would have been considered a nutcase, but right now he's more of a spiritual leader.

"You better go home, kiddo," Hyungwon said, looking at the same spot as Namjoon.

"You're literally standing at my porch, Hyungwon."

"Just get yourself and your bitch the fuck inside with before I kick your ass."

Taehyung doesn't answer. Tumbleweed kinda glares at Hyungwon and then goes into the house.

He had found the huge dog while venturing pretty far a few years back, when she was just a pup. Taehyung couldn't resist her and her big honey colored eyes; he just instantly knew he had to give her a place to live. Taehyung scoffs and takes his machete with him on his way inside. Hyungwon's dumb as shit and has an easily set off violent nature, but he's like a father to Taehyung. He has never laid a finger on him, and was with his real father when he got taken. Was close friends with him. Taught Taehyung to fight and let him cry on his shoulder everytime he lost someone, got his ass into shape so he won't be affected like a helpless child anymore.

He doesn't have anything better to do at the moment since his job for the day has already been done, so Taehyung goes to sleep on the ratty couch in his living room, scarf still secured around his head. It makes it hard for him to breathe, but no one could breathe normal anyway. If he had to choose between breathing in sand and breathing in the fabric of his scarf, he'd choose the latter any day.