Deviation Actions
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WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CLUE? (The Origins of Dawn Meadows)
“It’s true, what they said about Uniflavium. The side effects. I mean, what drug in the test stage doesn’t have side effects, right? But with Uniflavium… they were… less palatable. Science has a stomach for a lot of things… but when you start talking about death… the money begins to dry up.”
“That’s when your father began his independent lab research. It was following those damn results that he informed me that he pulling all funding and association from Meadows Industries from the project. We were so close, it was impossible that he would pull such a stunt at such a crucial juncture. I tried. I implored him about the jobs, the opportunities, the revenue! And that’s when he involved himself with that piece at the Rose Tribune. Your father convinced himself that he was doing the right thing. It all but sunk our project. I had to take it offline, underground, away from public scrutiny. When Dean learned about that, he threatened to expose me. What could I do? If he revealed that my work on Uniflavium was continuing outside the law? I would figure out the side effects problem. I needed more time, more subjects to… work out the kinks. I certainly needed more money, Dean saw to that!”
“I just had no other choice. When a man like Dean Meadows grows a conscience, starts talking about ‘truth and justice’ ...he has to die.” The man finished his confessional story with a reflective scratch at his chin.
“That’s why it is too bad that you decided to fancy yourself as some sort of amatuer detective. You should have just left well enough alone. It is tragic that you lost both your parents, but the inheritance bequeathed you by the Meadows estate would have ensured that you would never want for anything in a long and healthy life. I suppose it was that mansion, and all those empty rooms. It was too much to fill for a teenage girl that is struggling to fill the emptiness in her own heart, let alone a castle on the hill.”
“I blame your father. He plagues me even in death. I think he planted seeds. Seeds that have grown since his untimely passing. Seeds that have sprouted rumors, and theories that have blossomed around your ears, filling that pretty little head of yours with ideas. You have fantasies about the smoking gun you will find, that will vindicate the tragedy that stole away your perfect little life. It is so girlish of you to believe in such dreams.”
“But it is your meddling that has placed me in this position. I do not have the luxury to afford you your fantasies of becoming Nancy Drew. When you were dreaming of it, I saw fit to leave you to your adolescence, but when you took action, I realized that Dean was not the last Meadows that would threaten my pursuits. You escalated things by visiting Ernest Rodriguez in jail. I could not take the chance that he might talk. It’s a shame, if you are telling the truth and he did in fact keep his mouth shut. Perhaps he could have been spared… but no, I am not the type to leave things to chance.”
“I thought that would deter you from your girl detective adventures, but you proved to be more peril bound than I anticipated when you ignored Headmistress O’Neil’s warnings, and came snooping to the Library. I’m sure I have your father to thank for this disobedient streak in you, but what I wonder is why you came here? What girlish fantasy made you believe that your father actually left you something here? What did you possibly hope to find? What could have possibly been worth the risks you took? The man questioned the fallen girl at his feet. He regarded her for many moments in her vulnerable state.
“I suppose it does not matter. I have revealed myself to you, and now your adventures will end at the point of girlish fantasies. You will not grow up to be a thorn in my side. It is too late. You have forced my hand. I have no doubt that you would have become a beautiful woman like your mother. The evidence is already strikingly clear in the young lady you are. But you made choices, and there are consequences for those actions, Miss Meadows. You don’t just play at detective. Snooping, sleuthing, solving mysteries, it does not fit neatly into one of those books that fills your pretty blonde little head with ideas. If you could have kept your delicate nose out of this mess, you might have lived to see the other side of the grief over the loss of your parents. You might have been happy again… someday.”
To be continued…
(This picture was made in Daz Studio 3.1.2.24 and postwork in Adobe Photoshop CS2)
