City of Beasts Pt.2: Tapogres

When you live in a city full of murderous machines, mutants, monsters, marines, and mafiosos, beer is a high commodity. People would do anything to briefly forget the terrible world around them, and alcohol provided that comfort to those who could get their hand on it. The bar squid's drinks provided brief sustenance, but as the recipes and ingredients were exhausted, people became desperate for a drink. Even the hardest rivals were willing to briefly work together if it meant that they would be able to get their hands on the scarce amber liquid.

Unfortunately for a young naive Tapogre, this booze trade made him incredibly valuable. Yquem, a young tapogre with wine for blood, was prized for his high class flavor and constant ability to supply it. Although only subpar amounts could be extracted at a time, the refractory period was short enough to warrant a highly monitored trade on the tapogre himself.

Yquem was at first tortured to provide his precious lifeblood, but after a while he learned that his lot in life was to provide the gangs of the city with their juice. Yquem was currently in the hands of the Triden gang, and the red liquid provided their beverages the air of class they futilely tried to imitate. However, the Family had dipped into their mass of riches in order to acquire the wine fountain that is the young tapir. Their penchant for Italian ways often hurt their finances, but they had enough to warrant purchasing the closest thing they could get to the wine of the Old Country.

In transport, the Triden family's goons actively harassed the poor Tapogre, trying to get a few last spurts of wine from his bottle-arms. However, their dilly-dallying proved to be their downfall. A bullet sailed through the air and took down one thug, and as the others fumbled with their weapons to try and fire on the unseen sharpshooter, they were all picked off. Yquem stood alone in the street, and as the sniper loaded another bullet to take down the Tapogre too, a familiar nuisance blocked his view. A shower of flyers were sprayed all over the streets obscuring his aim and allowing the Tapogre to escape. The sniper aimed his gun and fired at the sky, trying to hit the one who had dropped the flyers for Yahoo.com.

Yquem stumbled through the city, running the only place he knew he could hide.Far off he could hear the rumblings of two titans fighting in the street, and his fear for his life made him lose his way. It wasn't until nightfall that the Tapogre was able to locate the path to his destination, the only safehouse for Tapogres in the City of Beasts: The Church of Tapogrepogo.

In concept, the City of Beasts was a perfect place for the violent race of tapir-ogre mutants. However, they quickly realized they were outmatched, and even though they wandered the streets still, they knew their lives could end for any reason at any second. The city was ruthless, and they lacked the wits to match their brawn. Tapogres died left and right, and few were able to get the food they needed to survive. That's where the church came in. Unknown to most other denizens of the city, the church was a safe place where Tapogres could sleep for the night and find allies for hunts for human flesh. Pornogres provided them outlets for their carnal desires, and the priests were always encouraging them to have hope.

Yquem approached the church in the dark, and noticed the first of many defense mechanisms. It was simple, meant to inspire fear and teach possible intruders of their fate. Bodies hung from street lamps and makeshift pikes. Some were humans, while others were Tapogres themselves. Dissenters, moles, and spies were ratted out and killed. One looked familiar to Yquem. It was Seo, an old Tapogre acquitance who had told him about the church. However, Seo had been augmented with some sort of machinery, and he must have been executed for suspicion of being a spy for the machines.

As he got closer, he found a short tunnel tipped with razors that led to the church's entrance. Tapogres had many things to fear in the city, but no one was feared more among the race than a certain Tapogre that had taken it upon himself to rig their bodies with phishing lines that allowed him to control their every move. The tunnel was meant to sever any lines that were hooked into a Tapogre or that tried to infiltrate the church's interior. The Tapogres had no idea if it worked, but they attributed the lack of infiltration so far as a sign of its effectiveness.

Yquem had almost reached the door when he was startled by a sudden snarling. The church's last line defense sat by the door in a wooden house. The creature growled at Yquem, but it did not lunge forward. Its uncanny sense of smell allowed it to differentiate between real and fake Tapogres, and its razor sharp teeth made quick work of anyone foolish enough to try to impersonate the mutant tapirs.

Yquem struggled with his bottled hands to grasp the door handles, but when he got it open, he was treated to a sight. Tapogres sat all over the church. all preparing for sleep. A few were busy preparing a few murdered men for a late dinner, and at the altar a few were even praying. On the altar sat a rotting head of a Tapogre, believed to belong to the fabled Tapogrepogo the church had been named after. It was believed by the priests that a unity among Tapogres could lead to the resurrection of the Fallen Saviour. The priests often had little to back up the validity of Tapogrepogo's supposed strength, but when the last Tapogre prophet had lost his life for the cause, few questioned its validity anymore.

On a crucifix above the congregation sat the Fallen Prophet. Although he never claimed to be a Messiah for the Fallen Saviour, the priests were quick to label him one. The humble foreman had sought unity in the city between not only Tapogres but the many races. Unfortunately, his upbeat attitude was his downfall. There was no room for heroes in a city of villains. However, his martyrdom led to the developing unity of the Tapogres, and at least his memory gave them hope for tomorrow.

One of the priests approached Yquem and welcomed him. Yquem had never seen the priests and never had heard them described either, so he was very startled to find they were a trio of cats made of custard. The cat guided him over to an area where other Tapogres sat, some seeming as fresh to the church as he was. One of them had four arms, and was busy picking at the remains of what seemed like golden armor. It was clear he had been mugged, and although he was quite muscular, the wake-up call about his strength must have drove him to the church.

Another kitten tended to the wounds he had received while in transit to the Family while the other went off to perform some other business. The last priest was preparing to give the last sermon of the night before lights-out. This cat looked different than the others. It was obvious he had been through some sort of trauma, and it was later revealed to be have been caused by a bad deal with a jewel fencer over an ark for carrying the Fallen Saviour's head around in. The priest was rather flat and cracked, apparently saved only by flash freezing. His sermons were often punctuated with stuttering, gulping, and a hacking cough, but his ability to inspire the Tapogres was the greatest of the three.

As Yquem went to sleep that night in a cot he had to share with a young Tapogress with pigtails, he finally felt content. His life here had been rough, but after living through all the brutality, he was finally able to find a place he could call home.