Dragon Alley

Chapter One: The Victim

The dim street light brightens on this heavy snowy night. Though it wasn't bright enough, but it was good enough to see a pool of blood surrounding a large sheet covering a body. Cullen didn't know who it was, but as far as he can tell the victim is… was another poor girl. A prostitute in Dragon Ally. The poorest part of Fereldan.

More like the dangerous part of Fereldan since this "Jack the Ripper" came into town. Cullen didn't know much about the man except he hunts down the desperate women, mainly prostitutes, with the same description. Young elven woman with medium length strawberry-blonde hair, pale skin with small spots of freckles across the cheek, bright orange eyes, and a tattoo of a dragon covering the right eye. Cullen stands by the side of the victim, surrounded by police, reporters (Maker I hate reporters), and onlookers murmuring and chatting loudly enough for Cullen's headaches to return.

Cullen crouched down enough to carefully remove the sheet from her face down and block any cameras or Makerdamn reporters. Cullen took a good look at her, she matches the description. Almost. She didn't have a tattoo, though it seemed like it was craved before/after her eyes were gouged out. He lifted the sheet a bit more, revealing her naked and gruesome figure. The same M.O as well as the other: the midsection of the body was cut open, signs of inter organs were removed, including her kidneys, intestines, and, the mainly, her uterus and part of her… other parts. The same inner organs that were taken from the others as well. So, they know it's the same man and not a copycat.

Good.

"Is it him, Inspector?" A voice creaked up behind Cullen, it was the usual deep voice of the commanding officer, Meredith. Cullen knew her from his many investigations from before, but they never seen eye to eye. Cullen knows her as the Commander who would bend the rule, or bend people, to get what she wants. One of the reasons why he left the Templars. It wasn't for him. Private investigations suit him just fine, it doesn't pay well, but he doesn't give a few damns. Besides, he has been investigating "The Ripper" since the first murderer seven months ago.

He raised from his knees, "Same M.O, and, from what I can tell, same gruesome crime execution." Cullen pulled a cigarette from his oversize trench coat, "But there is something different about this one though." He continued before he put out his lighter. "Different? How so?" Meredith moved beside him and kneeled at the body. Smoke poured out of Cullen's mouth before he could elaborate. "Well for starters the women he usually attacks are about the age of twenty-five or so, but from what I can tell from this lass is she maybe less than eighteen."

"Eighteen? Why? Why would a young woman whore herself for the sick and low?" Meredith sound abrupt. Cullen wasn't surprised. "Maybe she was desperate, and no one would take her in? Maybe her family was murdered, and she had no choice? I mean she IS an elf. Do you think anyone here will take pity on a lowly elf girl? If there is I love to meet them." Cullen sneered, taking another puff of his cigarette. Meredith scoffed at his words, she jumped to her feet, "It's a cruel world out there, Cullen, and there's only so much the Queen can do." she said, facing away from Cullen.

Cullen clutched his cigarette in anger, "I suppose banning elves from the cities and tossing them in a boarded-up hellhole is the Queen's best way of showing her efforts? If that's so I would be curious of what would happen if humans were in that position." That seems to get Meredith attention. Meredith softly gasped at Cullen's words, but he didn't care. He was damn proud of it. He hated the cruelty the elves were forced to go through.

Since Queen Victoria took the throne she promised for a better chance for everyone to coexist.

But she lied.

After the first year as queen, she created an "Alienage" in the wore down districts and she threw the "criminals, the poor, the weak, and the unwanted" from the cities. But she just threw every elf in the city who is "unworthy." The locals named it (you guessed it) "Dragon Ally." Suppose to scare anyone who wanders there. Plus, rumors from drunkards that elves would murder you on the spot or you get kidnapped and sell you into slavery, but that isn't true. Well not always. In the richest part of Fereldan, there aren't many jobs there, so they go to Dragon Ally to find some, or find "a lady friend to spend the night." But there is a slight chance you might not come back.

Beside the murder, women are forced into prostitution to pay there way out of that hellhole, or they try to sneak into the city, of Denerim, in hope to find better customers, or in hopes to find a mister who is in need of a mistress. Some nights they are lucky, other nights are like these. A poor woman killed in a gutter and left forgotten.

Cullen hated it. Hated it all.

But this is our world. How can we change it?

Meredith stomped in front of Cullen's with her very familiar enrage look, "How dare you! You don't know what she suffers through every day just to keep things in line, you ungrateful bastard!" Cullen couldn't help but chuckle. "In case you haven't notice, Commander, but this poor girl was the one who suffered. Her and many other elven women who is fearing for their lives." He gestured to the body. Cullen took one more puff before he threw in onto the ground, "Call me when her Majesty is lying in a pool of blood. Than we can talk." The horrify look on the Commander's face as he walked past her to the body made him smug a little. He didn't mean it of course, but he was a little less friendly when it came Meredith or the Templars.

His long and heinous past with the Order only filled him with sickness, nightmarish vivid visions of his failures and wounds that might not ever heal. After years of serving, he was already at his wits ends.

He couldn't do it.

Now he was on his own. Nothing was left but his insomnia, an unending addiction, his hated reputation, and his obsession to save those who need him. But sadly, there was never anyone who waited for him. Just an empty room full of unnecessary paperwork and his job.

He shouldn't complain too much. He loves his work. It wasn't too nightmarish enduring as his time in the Order. Plus, he still uses his abilities he was taught in the Templar order, but coming by Lyrium is becoming more of a challenge then he anticipated. The Dwarves only focus on the more valuable recruits then the dropouts who are looking for their next fix.

Thankfully Cullen didn't go down without a fight.

He made several deals to desperate Dwarves who wanted their own fix as well. Ever since the Lyrium mines explosion the Dwarves have been exposed and develop an addiction. They began making the alluring drug for themselves but never could maintain a steady lab for them to make more. But when they trade with other drug addled like ex-templars it became a steady routine.

For those who are looking for another dose of Lyrium or, like Cullen, use their abilities to own advantage without a Captain or a Commander barking orders.

Speaking of abilities, Cullen looked at the young girl. Examining her once more before taking out a flask, revealing a cool blue liquid. An alluring essence that ever so calls upon Cullen's senses. His hungry growing at the faint smell of this horror drug he could not endure without. He takes a swing, letting the heavenly taste fill his mouth and down his throat. Feeling the enduing power, he touches the girl's forehead and pulled her wounded spirit from her bloodied body, touching his forehead to her.

Sudden darkness covers him. Nothing but darkness.

He opens his eyes to see the same street empty. No reporter or Templars in sight. Nor the body of the girl laying on the floor covered in her own blood. The young girl herself is walking nervously in the dark ally, emerging from the corner, she fidgets with her coat tightly as she clenches her fist. She was shivering. Either from the cold or in fear. She walks in a normal pace, but suddenly stops. She peaks her over her shoulder. As if she was looking at Cullen, somehow knowing he was there. It sent shivers down his spin. He thought he would see fear or sadness, but they were…. hallow, empty, depressed even. Was this her before or her spirit….? Cullen didn't know. He had visions before, but the spirits were never this… cold. The young girl kept walking, occasionally glancing over her shoulder with that same hallow eyes. She didn't get far until she slams into someone. Cullen looked over the girl to see a bulking looking man. He was wearing a large overcoat, it was so large it dragged on the dirty ground, a large top hat, a red bandanna that covered half his face. And his eyes! Marker his grey eyes became more hellish each time Cullen look at this devil. Dead, cold and gone. Maybe like his soul? The young girl looked frighten. Her eyes widen, her breathing became heavy as she back away from the large shadow figure. Only he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her closer as he pulled a sharp, serrated blade from her overcoat. Tutting her, he played with her throat, gently dancing the metal across, up and down, her neck. Like a predator playing with its food. However, the girl had an upper hand, her freed hand took a small blade from her cloak and slashed the figure on the face. She dashed towards the alley turning the corner she came from. She keeps running and running, Cullen saw a fleeting hope on her face when she made it to the streets, but it was short lived. The shadow figure grabbed her by the hair. He saw her lips part, as if she was calling for help. She cried for help…but no one came. No one ever came. The figure yanked the girl down on the dirt ground. His slashed eye dripping blood onto her horrid face. Her eyes water as she moved her lips. Cullen couldn't hear her, but he already knew. She was begging for her life. Begging for mercy. But…. There was no mercy to be given. The figure lifted his blade and plunged right into her eye sockets. Cullen turned away. His gift came with a small mercy, he couldn't hear their screams, but it still was nightmare inducing. He could still see all the previous victims of the Ripper. It's still horrid and gruesome. It filled his void with ghost of the tormented and ignored. Especially…his greatest failure. After a few moments has passed, the figure, even though his mouth is covered, had a sinister and vile grin plastered on his face as he stared at his handy work. Cullen groan in self-disgust, how can a monster of man even exist. Marker may have a terrible sense of humor after all. The Ripper stared at the girl's body, looking closer he grabs her clenched fist and opened it, broken some fingers in the process. In the girl's hand looked like some kind of ticket?

It said:

Samson's Erotic Whores Present: Knife-Ear's Exotic dance
Tonight's Performance is Lady Ashanne Lavellan of the Forest

It had today's date and the time. Midnight.

On the back was a small piece of paper. It had a small note: My dearest Adassa, I know what you've been doing. We must talk at once. Come and meet me at Samson's before my show.

Your sister, Ashanne.

The Ripper took the note and left as the shadow swallowed him. Leaving his victims on the street to be discovered by a patrolling Templar. The memory faded, and he was back into present day. The spirit of the girl, Adassa, was weaken. She weeps in silence, begging to him. He already knew what she wanted. Cullen gently rubs her head with his thumb and said the words "I release you."

She put her hand on his chest, mostly right above his heart, and mouth a "thank you" and slowly faded into nothingness.

And she was gone.

Cullen sighed in exhaustion. Light headed, and dizziness hit him hard. He already expected this and shot down more Lyrium before he collapses. His hands shake from using too much power, but he can't rest now. He found a lead. A good solid lead he hasn't had in months during his investigations. But from Adassa memories she was to find this "sister" of hers.

Did she know? Did she know this would happened? Maybe she did know something.

There was only one way he can find out.