"I don't know with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones."

Phrase attributed to Albert Einstein.

The waxing crescent moon shone with a reddish hue, illuminating the night sky. Its light was reflected in the cylindrical tanks that contained a viscous green substance and kept spinning. As they did it, they creaked rhythmically in unison like a beating heart. Among the few spaces between them was an old man whose wrinkles reflected the passage of time and experience, and a young man who did not seem pleased with the situation.

"We should get another hound!" exclaimed the young man.

"You’re about to turn 19, so I’ll buy you another pet," said the old man while he listened carefully to every sound; years of vigilance had given him a sort of sixth sense for danger, and he felt it was at its peak. In his hand, he held a machete made of metallic bones that only accentuated the thin figure of the old man.

"I say it more for safety, since the wall broke I could..." the young man was saying when he was interrupted by the old man.

"Shhh!" the old man whispered.

In that, a howl was heard echoing among the tanks. The old man held his machete tightly.

Little by little, growls could be heard approaching, along with the incessant grinding of the machines. The young man was sweating cold and his heart was racing a thousand beats per minute.

Seeing the young man's indecision, she said, "Run."

Some flames lit up in the distance, there were about six.

The young man knew there was nothing more to be done, so he ran with all his might in the opposite direction of the flames, weaving through the labyrinthine spaces between the tanks.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit," he said to himself, furious with the helplessness he felt. That's where he stumbled.

From among the shadows, something was slowly approaching. The boy took out a slingshot with some metal beads. His hands were trembling. In that, he was able to see the creature. It was something he had never encountered before. A kind of humanoid cactus full of sharp thorns, with bright eyes that have a shy look and an enigmatic smile. The plant pointed to a dripping pile. The young man, for his part, sighed in relief. But he knew he shouldn't waste any more time. He prepared to run, but felt a sharp pain in his leg. 

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"It can't be," he whispered as the pain grew and the warmth of blood flowed through his injured limb.

Then growls were heard, getting closer and closer. The young man tried to escape, but his leg wouldn't respond, and he fell to the ground. Then some canine figures came to light. They were enormous, about a meter and a half tall. There were three of them. Its fur was reddish like fire, and its yellow eyes kept staring at the boy. One of them had machete wounds. Between growls and barks, they displayed their terrible and sharp fangs. 

Unable to get up, he took his sling and launched one of the metal beads. Which injured one of them, but instead of backing away, they only growled even louder. Then a noise started to sound, a kind of crackling sound that grew louder and louder until the creatures burst into flames. The brightness was blinding, the heat they emitted suffocating. The smoke was intoxicating like sulfur. With each step, the sand turned into glass. The young man knew it was the end. In that moment, one of the wolves flew out with a whistle. A voice that was both screechy and deep said these words:  

-HA...HA...HA...-.

The boy couldn't help but look, but he would have preferred not to. The creature that was in that place was an abomination against nature. It was about the cactus, but this time it was destroyed, with black threads holding the parts together, giving it an almost humanoid but thin shape, barely held by black threads and much larger, sharper thorns. Its height would be about three or four meters, and its unstructured shape inspired a sense of anguish. But the worst part was his face; his once timid eyes now reflected both anger and malice, and his enigmatic smile had turned into a twisted, deformed grin, a mockery of what could be considered laughter resonating from his exasperating mouth as he said:  

- HA...HA...HA...-.

The young man, for his part, felt a terror like he had never experienced in his life. The wolves began to growl at the creature, but it, moving a limb like a whip, let one of the fragments that made up its now shattered body fall and struck with such force that the spikes pierced from one end to the other of the wolf's body, and the crunching of its bones was heard. The other beasts slowly moved away, and after some sounds of pity, they fled. The young man, for his part, looked at the creature, which seemed to be drinking the wolf's blood. Then he turned to see his body, approaching with a fixed gaze and his discordant laughter: -HA...HA...HA...-. 

In that moment, driven by instinct and filled with adrenaline, he struck the tank with an arm, and the vital liquid began to flow from the rusty fountain. The sound of running water caused a change in the creature that slowly returned to normal. The black threads retracted, and the parts came together again; this time the creature radiated an aura of extreme joy as it approached to drink from the fountain. 

The boy's heartbeats were at their limit, and he couldn't stop gasping. And then he saw his hand dripping with blood, and the pain paralyzed him. It wasn't long before I lost consciousness.

The old man with multiple burns ran over, but upon seeing the plant, he turned pale.