Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or anything associated with the Inheritance Series.
Claimer: I, SussieKitten, own this plot and the story. Borrow or steal my plot, my original characters (Axel) or story and I will report you. I also own my version of Saphira/Thorn's human appearances.
Warnings: Slash/Shōnen-ai – meaning mild guy x guy action. Swearing or strong language. Character Death – made up characters at first. Implied Torture. Gore and Blood – I like my crime scenes messy, my apologies. If any of this disturbs you, click on the "back" button. I won't tolerate any flames.
A/N Alright, this is the reason I shall never dive into another slightly unfamiliar setting. XD It was a little hard to get used to writing a "cop"-centred fic again, but I had a great time writing it! I've only done this once before, in a different fandom at that, and that time I didn't use a lot of cop-speak or terms. That's why I'm adding a vocabulary at the bottom of each chapter, just in case you don't know a word or a term. I'd hate to confuse you guys more than I have to :sweatdrop:
And last but not least, a huge thanks to my beta dragonrider713! You are the best. :)
(03.37 AM - Tuesday 15th of April. Outside an abandoned warehouse in Teirm, Alagaësia.)
"Team Beta, do you copy?"
"This is Team Beta. No movements or shapes detected."
"Team Alpha, what's your status?"
"Team Alpha here. We can't detect anyone."
"Team Delta, what's your report?"
"This is Delta. The heat detectors sense no live bodies inside the house."
"Wait, what's that?"
"Holy shit! Call Homicide and get them here fast!"
"Team Delta, what do you see?"
"It's nasty, Captain. It's them again, no doubt about it. They've left us a calling card. You better call the Carvahall PD and get Morann's team out here stat."
"Fuck."
"You said it, Captain."
RED HAZE
Part One; Rebirth
(08.54 PM - Tuesday 15th of April. Inside Slogum's Gas Station in Carvahall, Alagaësia)
"Daydreaming again, Eragon?"
The nineteen year old teen shook his head and focused on the female standing beside him. He raked a hand through his light brown hair and only ended up with having to flat
it afterwards. His dark brown eyes narrowed as the other laughed at him. Eragon Rider really wasn't having the best day of his life.
"No, just thinking." He replied and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
His co-worker crocked her eyebrow. Her soft black hair reached just below her chin and her green eyes twinkled merrily. To have turned twenty-two not long ago, she managed to act like she was still a scheming teenager. They were both dressed in identical clothes; a pair of black pants and an apron with the name of the station printed on it. As long as the top they wore was green, they could choose whatever sweater or t-shirt they wanted to wear.
"Careful so you don't hurt that brain of yours by thinking too hard." Arya Elve said amusedly.
Eragon just rolled his eyes in answer.
Currently he was at the gas station he worked at, watching the hours tick by slowly. There were few costumers during the later hours, but there still had to be at least two employees there at all times. And lucky Eragon had gotten the final shift that night.
Eragon sighed and looked around in the station. It was as quiet as the grave. The only sound echoing inside the room was the quiet hums from the radio in the corner of the register. His eyes yet again fell on the newspaper-stand that had been placed, quite comically, practically straight in the way of the customers coming through the door. The headlines still bore the same grotesque news as they had all day. Another brutal murder has the Police stumped. When will the horror end?
"Hey, are you alright?" Arya asked softly.
Eragon realised then that he had been staring into space for the past ten minutes. He blinked.
"Uh, yeah."
Arya straightened out her work-apron and stepped closer.
"Horrible isn't it? I can't understand how someone is capable of doing such a thing." She murmured quietly.
Eragon just nodded.
When he was able to finally leave an hour later, Eragon felt that he could breathe a little easier. It was Arya's turn to lock up, all he had to do was to hop onto the bus and get home.
Home was a small apartment that he shared with his best friend Saphira Drake. They had been friends since kindergarten when Eragon had been teased by a much larger boy than himself and Saphira had emptied a bucket of sand and water over the bully's head. They had been inseparable ever since.
Eragon got off the bus twenty minutes later. Thankfully he lived close to the bus station, so he didn't have to go far even if he had to take a night bus. But ever since the murders had begun, and even if they took place in other cities around Alagaësia, Eragon had begun to feel a little edgy. According to the papers there had been no connection between the victims, just that they had all been young males in their early twenties and they all had light coloured hair. Eragon, while not totally fitting the description, was
feeling a little worried. But as a Psychology student he knew that his brain was looking for similarities because of everything that had happened to him in the past. There was no reason for him to be worried, none at all.
But as the brunet was finally able see his apartment complex he couldn't help but to let out a sigh of relieve. He walked to the second floor and unlocked the door to number 24.
"Saphira?" He called out as he kicked off his shoes and flung his jacket somewhere in the direction of the hangers.
"In the kitchen!" A light female voice yelled back.
Saphira had her back to him. She was just a few inches shorter than Eragon, something he was secretly happy about, since everyone else seemed to tower over him. She had her blonde hair up in a bun, a few blue stripes mixing in with the light hair. She turned around when he sensed him, her sapphire blue eyes twinkling in recognition.
"You got back in once piece?" Saphira half-teased.
"Apparently." Eragon said with a shrug and sat down at the small kitchen table.
Saphira's face softened.
"Are you still a little scared?" She murmured.
"Not scared per say." Eragon protested. "These murders just send shivers up my spine."
Saphira blew away some steam from the cup she was holding in her hands. She took a gentle sip out of it before speaking again.
"Who wouldn't? It's not everyday there are rumours about a blood-thirsty gang making havoc in the country."
The brunet just sighed.
"You shouldn't let it get to you." Saphira advised.
"I know I know." Eragon muttered. "It's a little hard, that's all. There hasn't been a killing-spree like this since…"
He didn't have to continue. The sad look in Saphira's eyes let him know she knew what he was talking about.
"Come, let's get some hot chocolate in your body and get you to bed." The blonde said and turned on the stove once more. "There isn't anything chocolate can't fix!"
Eragon smiled softly as he watched his best friend work. Whenever he was around his friends he finally felt safe and he thanked God for that. He hadn't felt safe after the death of his parents when he had been eight. Safety was an emotion he rarely experienced and always treasured.
As the two teenagers started to talk and laugh together, they failed to notice a form watching them from outside of the window. And before they could, the figure had slid down the fire-escape and was yet again out of sight.
--RED.HAZE--
(08.43 AM - Wednesday 16th of April. Inside the Police Department in Carvahall, Alagaësia)
A loud crack echoed inside the office as someone slammed their fist into the desk. Papers fluttered down from the desk and onto the floor. A tall figure stopped in the doorway, glancing over the mess before stepping inside and coughing to alert his presence.
"What is it, Thorn?"
Detective Thorn Marron was a red haired male that easily ranked over six feet tall. His hair was short, almost military-cut short, and messy. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks, a blue shirt and a darker blue tie, the gun harness strapped neatly to his upper body and keeping the weapon underneath his left arm. At twenty-five he had already gained the reputation of being the most intimidating cop in the department. His sharp golden eyes took in the other man before him before he answered.
"You didn't go home again, right?" Thorn asked in his deep and slightly husky voice.
The other man finally looked up. Sergeant Murtagh Morann was twenty-four, but looked older from the dark circles under his eyes and the small sneer on his lips. His dark brown hair looked almost black and was hanging messily around his face. Though he was tall, he wasn't nearly as tall as his companion. His black slacks were slightly rumbled and he had taken off his belt the night before, as he had indeed not gone home. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Even if his appearance looked a little under the weather, his hazel eyes looked as alive as ever.
"So?" Murtagh asked indifferently.
"Murtagh, everyone is feeling the heat from this case, but that's no excuse to work yourself to the ground." Thorn said with a frown.
"I refuse to rest until we get this bastard behind bars." Murtagh growled and gathered up the papers and tossed them onto the desk.
The surface was filled to the rim with grotesque crime-scene photos, autopsy reports, notes from various detectives and private speculations scribbled down and then erased.
"That might take a while." Thorn commented.
Murtagh rolled his eyes and raked both of his hands through his hair.
"I am sick and tired of this shit. We know it's them, but we can't stop them from killing people because we can't very well bring in every light haired teenage boy in the country!" Murtagh groaned loudly. "If we only knew what or who they were after."
Murtagh heard the other sigh.
"Clearly they're after some kid. The Forsworn have only been in the drug business, smuggling and random murder/rapes before this. This is a pattern."
"Don't you think I don't know that?" The hazel eyed man snapped.
The Forsworn was a very famous and dangerous gang that had existed for the past thirty years, in which they had only been assumed connected to several cases. The head of the gang was Galbatorix King, a very sadistic and downright evil man that stopped at nothing. Unfortunately the police only knew his name, not where he lived or who he really was. The name had no prior history, only the present one. No one had seen
Galbatorix and lived to tell the world who he was. And now some unlucky kid might be the new target of Galbatorix's sick game.
"Calm down, partner. There's no use getting so worked up over this." Thorn murmured quietly.
Murtagh took deep and calming breaths. It was just that whenever that particular gang was involved, his temper shortened dangerously. It had been like that ever since before he could remember. And there was a reason for that. A reason Murtagh had only shared with the police Captain and Thorn, who had been his best friend since high school. And he didn't plan on telling anyone else.
"Yeah, I know." Murtagh whispered and let himself fall back into his chair.
"Boys, assembly in the briefing room in two minutes."
Both men looked up and at the female that had poked her head inside the room. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and her black eyes shone with life. Her darker skin complimented her hair and eyes and her light coloured clothes. Detective Nasuada Black winked at them before disappearing as quickly as she had come.
"Well, you heard her. Let's move."
Thorn held out a hand and effectively stopped Murtagh from walking more than a few steps from his chair.
"Put your belt back on and at least button up your shirt before we leave." Thorn said and let his arm fall back down. "Or do you want half of the force to faint?"
Murtagh smirked wryly as he rolled down the arms of his shirt. He shouldered on the harness, even though it was empty, and got up.
"Why of course. That's what I'm here for." He said teasingly and put the belt back on as they walked.
Thorn rolled his eyes when Murtagh refrained from buttoning up the shirt.
As they arrived inside the briefing room Nasuada and Captain Black was already there, along with Detective Vanir Therr. Captain Ajihad Black was Nasuada's father though he in no way showed he favoured her above anyone else. He had short military-cut black hair and the same black gleaming eyes as his daughter. He was the only one sitting as Murtagh and Thorn entered the room.
"Good, we're all here." Ajihad said in his deep and soothing voice.
"The intern isn't here yet." Vanir drawled in a bored tone.
Vanir was at the same age as Murtagh, but he was more anti-social and uncaring than Murtagh could ever be. He had longer black hair which he always had back in a low ponytail and smoky blue eyes. He was a few inches shorter than Murtagh, but refused to be looked down upon whenever they met, resulting in him insulting the other a lot. Murtagh refused to really care about Vanir. As long as Vanir did his job, Murtagh didn't care about what he was saying.
"Axel is unable to come in today." Ajihad said and pointed to the bulletin board that hung on the wall behind him. "Yesterday we got another victim to add to the list."
Nasuada, who had sat down a seat away from Vanir, winced softly.
"Same MO, same COD... and yet again the same message."
Murtagh looked away from the pictures showing the victim's intestines on display and the various cuts and bruises on him to the picture where a bloody message had been written on the wall. Murtagh chose to ignore the heart lying on the ground beneath the message to read the words yet again. We'll have you yet E, you can't run from us.
The message was one of the things they had kept from the media. They didn't want to have every teen with a first or middle name starting with E to mass panic.
"What was his name?" Murtagh asked and leaned onto the wall behind the chair he usually occupied.
Thorn frowned from his place at the table.
"Thor Evander Hvalls." Ajihad answered morosely.
Murtagh closed his eyes and sighed.
"We have to do something." Nasuada piped up. "This is the ninth murder. People are scared all over Alagaësia."
"What can we do? Hound in every teenager with the first name start with E?" Vanir snorted. "Good luck with that. Let me know how it goes."
Nasuada shot the blue eyed male a dark glare.
"You don't happen to have a middle name do you, Therr? Starting with E preferably? That way we could use you as bait for these creeps." She growled.
"Enough." The Captain said with finality. "Arguing will get us nowhere. Detective Black, do you have any news from our undercover agent?"
"Nothing." Nasuada said and shook her head. "Carvahall is the only city they haven't hit yet, and our agent has yet to spot any of Galbatorix's followers."
"Are they still following possible targets?" Ajihad asked.
"They're following four within the age group, but none seem threatened so far."
"Wait a sec! We have an agent following teenagers?" Vanir asked suspiciously. "Since when?"
"Since the third murder, when Galbatorix hit Gil'ead." Ajihad answered truthfully.
Murtagh frowned to himself. That seemed a little risky to him. Nasuada got up to stand beside the bulletin board and started to speak.
"We're only following teenagers with E in their first name and that are orphaned, just like the victims. If we take into account all the new information we've gotten from the other authorities, the list can be narrowed even further." Nasuada said and started to write on the white board they kept beside the bulletin board.
"What do you mean by that, Detective Black?" Vanir drawled.
"What I mean is that every teen that has been murdered went by the name that started with an E. Meaning that Hvalls used Evander, and the victim in Trondheim used Ethan." She paused. "This means we're looking for a teenage boy who either only uses his middle name or that has a first name beginning with an E."
Murtagh stared at the new list with interest. According to it every victim had become an orphan at an early age but had been taken care of the remaining family, not sent to an orphanage or put up for adoption. The ages ranged from eighteen to twenty-one and the descriptions were the same.
"However…"
The hazel eyed man shifted his focus back to the only female on the team. Nasuada cleared her throat.
"A friend of a boy matching this description contacted us a few weeks ago. I had our agent sent to look after him and was pleasantly surprised they knew this boy already. He's a very possible target, and has told his friend he's been feeling watched for some time now." The dark haired female finished.
"But you aren't sure." Ajihad stated.
"No, sir." Nasuada said and shook her head. "But I'm keeping our agent on him just in case."
"Good." The Captain nodded. "And our agent will let us know if anything happens?"
"Right away, sir."
Ajihad nodded again.
"That will be all. But Morann, I'd like to have a word."
The rest of the group cleared out of the room. Thorn laid a hand briefly on Murtagh's shoulder before walking out. The door clicked shut.
"You did another all-nighter, didn't you son?" Ajihad asked gently.
Murtagh sighed loudly.
"This case is driving me nuts! I simply can't go home and sleep when I know he is out there, killing all these kids!" He exclaimed.
"You know him better than anyone. Do you know what he's up to?" The dark skinned man asked in a low voice.
Murtagh glanced at the blinds in the room, making sure himself that all of them were closed before moving closer to the Captain. He sat down in the chair closest to him and leaned forward.
"My first guess was that he was looking for a new toy. But this is something different." Murtagh licked his lips. "I've thought over it a lot. It might be that one of his whores ran away and had a kid, and now he's tracking that kid down. Obviously he doesn't know a lot; maybe the mother went into witness protection or changed her name. But he knows that this kid was orphaned, he knows what age group he's in, and he's probably guessing his hair and eye colour by what the mother had."
Ajihad nodded sombrely.
"All we know is that out there, some poor kid has the worst gang leader in modern times after him." Murtagh said and crossed his arms. "I hope to God he's unaware of it."
"But there is no way we can track him down ourselves?" The older man asked.
Murtagh shook his head.
"There have been no cases against Galbatorix, so looking for someone mentioning his name in a protection report will be fruitless. The only thing we can do is to sit back and hope that our agent out there catches them before they catch this kid."
--RED.HAZE--
(02.21 PM - Friday 18th of April. Outside of Carvahall College in Carvahall, Alagaësia)
Eragon walked down the college stairs while tucking away his books. He had just been to another Psychology lecture, and he had a feeling he hadn't been paying a lot of attention. His mind had kept wandering back to the recent murder. He couldn't get the story out of his head.
A hand suddenly clasped onto his shoulder and he jumped a mile into the air.
"Whoa, easy there Eragon!"
Eragon tried to slow his heart down as he turned around.
"Geez, you scared the hell out of me Saphira." Eragon wheezed.
The blonde frowned and adjusted the strap of her bag.
"Still a bit freaked out?" She whispered.
Eragon just nodded. Saphira looped her arm in his and started to drag him down the steps.
"I get you Eragon, but there's nothing to be afraid of. The police will catch whoever's responsible in no time." She said and tried to smile encouragingly.
The brunet shook his head.
"Nine people have been murdered, Saph. I can't help it if my faith in the police is waning a bit."
Saphira sighed softly.
"Don't lose complete faith in them though. They aren't completely useless." She joked softly.
"Who's not completely useless?"
Both Eragon and Saphira were startled when a third voice entered their conversation. Arya looked at them strangely when they failed to answer.
"What's wrong?" She asked softly.
"Eragon's still a little edgy, that's all." Saphira said and wrapped her arms around herself.
"There's nothing to be worried about 'Agon." Arya said and ruffled the brunet's hair. "If anything happens I'll be there in a tiffy to kick their asses!"
Eragon rolled his eyes and tried yet again to flatten his hair.
"And what if you aren't there in a tiffy?" Eragon asked deadpanned.
"Then you'll just have to show them that no one can mess with 'Agon Rider!" Arya exclaimed and took a classical karate pose, making a parody sound of a movement being executed as she did so.
Saphira smothered a giggle with the back of her hand.
"Very funny, Arya." Eragon drawled.
Arya just winked and dragged along the two younger ones.
"Now, let's go and get some food. Food cures all trouble, especially for men."
"I resent the mocking of my gender." Eragon grumbled lowly to which the females started to giggle.
"You tell yourself that, Eragon. You tell yourself that." Arya said teasingly and winked.
No one noticed the figure staring after them, writing something down on a piece of paper before he seemed to disappear into thin air.
--RED.HAZE--
(11.49 PM - Friday 2nd of May. Unknown location)
"It's been confirmed. We've located the boy, boss."
A smirk.
"Finally."
--RED.HAZE--
(11.06 PM - Sunday 4th of May. Outside a rundown cottage in Carvahall, Alagaësia)
A car had driven by the cottage two hours before when the driver and his passenger had heard terrifying screams coming from inside of it. They had immediately called the police and had barely managed to stick around; they had been that terrified. The police officer had taken one look at the location before asking the couple to meet him at the station and called for back-up.
Now two teams were crawling their way up to the cottage, dressed black as the night, each of them having horrible flashbacks of having done the very same thing not long ago.
"Team Beta, what do you see?"
The team closest to the cottage stopped moving and looked around with their night-vision goggles.
"Beta here. We can't see anything. No hot spots, no explosives or dangerous equipment. Whatever's in there is either inanimate or dead."
In the van the third team winced. One member growled to himself and waited for more news.
"Team Zeta, what's your status?"
"This is Zeta. No one has escaped since our arrival. There are no traces of anyone having left at all."
"Wait, no… this can't be!"
One member in the van swore loudly. He was out of the van and running towards the cottage before the next message came through.
"There's a definite DB in there. They've hit again, Captain. I hope you brought Morann this time around."
"Zeta, what do you see?"
"The calling card has changed, Captain. This isn't going to be pretty."
The rest of the team was instantly out of the van and running after their other member.
Thorn was the first to enter the rundown cottage. He looked around and spotted one from the Zeta group, the ones that had crept up back, waving him in his direction.
"He's in there, Detective."
Thorn nodded to the man before going inside the room. He held a hand over his nose and looked around.
Murtagh didn't really notice it when Thorn entered the room behind him, much less when Nasuada and Vanir did so later. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, but it didn't bother him. He was too busy gazing down at the mutilated body of yet another dead teenager. The hair was soaked with blood, but Murtagh would guess everything he owned that it was either light brown or blond. His throat had been slashed, but not deep enough to kill him right away, just like the previous victims. His stomach was cut on the middle and the flesh peeled to either side. The organs had been neatly removed from inside of him and placed in a circle around the body. The heart was the only thing missing. Murtagh looked up, right at the wall facing the head of the body, and located it easily. Above it, written in blood, was a new message. You're too late. E will be ours. You can't save him.
"Damn it all to hell." Murtagh growled.
The others came to stand beside him. Vanir, being the one who usually went with the coroner on their murder cases, checked out the body. Nasuada ripped out her phone and was soon calling her father.
"This is getting personal." Thorn murmured.
"Too personal." Murtagh agreed. "They know where he is and they're coming for him."
Nasuada snapped her phone shut with a sound click.
"Don't put that away yet Nas. Call our agent. Whoever E is, he's in trouble. By the end of tomorrow he'll be in their clutches if we don't do something." Murtagh said and moved even closer to the message.
He glanced at it and growled.
"It's fresh. He died while the officer was calling for us." The hazel eyed man said darkly and punched the wall inches away from the writing.
"Murtagh."
Murtagh tried to calm himself down, but this time it wasn't working. He wasn't angry anymore, he was livid.
"Good. Stay close to him. If anything happens, bring him in immediately." Nasuada said into the phone. "We can't afford to lose someone else."
Murtagh fisted his hands.
"We aren't losing anyone else." He said icily. "I'm not allowing it to happen again. Galbatorix is going down."
A/N So, what did you think? Was it exciting enough? Lol. Anyhow, this fic will have 7 parts, and I'll post one each week. I can't say which day just yet, but most probably it will be during the weekends. The next part will be up no earlier than Tuesday though. Don't ask me to make it earlier, I can't allow myself to fall for that temptation. I have to concentrate on my upcoming exam.
You see, this is my last week of freedom before my final exam. So I'm just trying to relax and hope that I can get a lot of writing done during the summer break. I have so many projects that I'm working on, and really hope I have something to post once I finish this fic. To everyone who's expecting a story from me, I am working on them! I will hopefully have them done soon.
But don't forget to review and make me a very happy girl! Reviews are a huge inspiration to me. :wink:
I know you may already know some of these words, but I'm adding them all just in case.
Police Speak:
Team (insert name) – (in my story) SWAT teams that make sure the coast is clear for the "normal" cops to move in
Calling card – (here) a message the killer(s) leave for the police to find
PD – short for Police Department
Stat – Right away, now, quickly
Gun harness – the "belt" like thing the cops have around their shoulders and upper back to keep the gun in place under their preferred arm
MO – short for Modus Operandi, which stands for manner of operating. Basically it means the method a routine criminal uses to commit his crimes, e.g. the weapon he uses or the way he kills his victims
COD – short for Cause of Death
Hot spots – shows where an object generating heat is, such as a lit explosive or a breathing (alive) person
DB – short for Dead Body
Coroner – the person that does the autopsy (examines the dead people and determines how they died)
