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ID Sheet Name: Aenara Connelly HP: (10/10)
| Subject: Untitled Document 2.5.4 Thu Apr 07, 2016 9:37 pm | |
| Prologue
Ms. Graves, I regret having to inform you of the circumstances surrounding your mother's death, but her co-worker, Jasper Novak, described to me the reasons. We both agreed that, though painful for you, it would be to your benefit to know. On the night of June 13th, Jasper Graves left your mother's workshop at 2100 hours. As you must already know, her workshop took up the lower floor of her home. Apparently, Aika Graves spent at least two more hours there. At 2300, her neighbor professed to see her lock the front door and leave with her vehicle. At 0300, a vehicle matching that of your mother's was caught on camera running a stop light at an east heading. At 1600 hrs. the next day, two days following her last meeting, she was reported missing by Jasper Novak. At 1700 hrs. five days later, Jasper Novak was checking your mother's rural building. He noticed discrepancies in the plants surrounding the walk. Upon further investigation, he thought he saw a light. After ringing the bell and getting no response, he testing the security system. It was not operational. At 1800 hrs. Novak contacted the police. At 1900 hrs. Aika Graves was found in her study. She was taken to the hospital, but died an hour later, only gaining consciousness once. She died at 2030. The doctor reported probable cause of death as a brain hemorrhage brought about by major contusions to the skull made approx. three hours before her death. During her consciousness, she made it very clear that you were to be her key to the lab, the only key. The Brookston City Police have it now; however, your mother apparently wrote a letter to you prior to the incident implying she already suspected her fate. There are multiple signs of forced entry. After closing observing them, the city has decided that due to your mother's service before she died, they would supply the funds to rebuild the security. This is being accomplished under Jasper Novak who was the only other person besides your mother who ever knew about the system. Again, I offer my condolences. I am very sorry. We all miss her here in Brookston. She was a kind lady, a wonderful friend, and genius scientist. Enclosed is a ticket for the TransTerra train leaving 0800 on this Friday, the 11th, from the Aubtred Park Station. Jasper Novak will meet you at the Osterville Station (23 miles from Brookston). I hope to see you there. William Crannel Dienira Graves refolded the letter at shoved it into the outside pocket of her luggage. With a frustrated sigh, she propped her elbows on her knees and lazily waited for the incoming train. Why was she even going?With another sigh, she uncrossed her legs, letting her head drop even lower. Deep in thought, she heard the foggy clicks and clacks of the iron wheels as they pulled themselves to a full stop. She stood, grasped her two pieces of luggage and stepped onto the board. Inside, the closed in box was dim. Being the first in line, she made her way toward the nearest lightbulb, under which a uniformed man was carefully snipping out a particular comic from the paper.She stepped forward more obviously to get his attention. After that failure, she slipped the ticket under her nose. "Osterville," she mentioned, tapping at the destination.With a gag, the man dove over, wrapping long fingers around the plastic water bottle. After a violent swig, he cleared his throat. "Eh, 52. Two cars down, last door to your right." He reached into the drawer, and popping up the lid of the little tin container, resumed his gum chewing. After a quick snip of his special scissors, he pushed back the ticket.The young woman cast an obvious glance at the man. Then, to her luggage. With a careless sigh, she turned and followed his directions. Crossing the last rickety suspension with only a slight thought to the locomotive's age, she came to the 50's.52.She twisted the slender hand and pushed the door to the side. The cabin was roomy. With an approving glance. She stepped in and swung the door closed behind her. The girl hefted her luggage to the overhead compartment and latched them secure. Dienira entertained herself with the conversations of those passing in the aisle until the mellow mumbling died down. Then, the train rattled forward, quickening to a smoother gait. As her attention span finished feeding off the passing scenery, her mind rolled back to the letter in her luggage. When she received the news of her mother's death, or rather when her landlady did, it had created a stir through the apartment building. Up until that point, it was general consensus that Dena Graves had materialized on Planet Earth due to the “Martian Baby Ray", a device that never would have even been thought of in a million years had Dena and her fellow apartment dwellers never existed. Suddenly, she was a person a great curiosity. Now that the Martian theory was over, it was like a new person moving into the apartment. What they didn't know was that, to Dena, the Pseudo-Martian-Baby theory was as good as any other to her. She was raised by "friends of her mother's". They never offered any more information than that, and they forbid her prying into the affair. Mr. and Mrs. Lessain were kind and organized, also strict and rather aloof. They never bothered pretending to be her parents, just like they never bothered offering any reason for her being with them. So, having nothing to do but finish her schooling, Dena wriggled her way into college a year early and as soon as the Lessains’ granted her leave from their household, quit. They couple had made it clear from the vague start that she needn't form attachments with them -- so she didn't. The day she turned eighteen, they planted her in the hallway with a long list of "parental guidance that she would properly have received had her true parents been in their place". The book sat on her shelf, a magnetic bookmark clipped to the third page and three years of dust piled on the binding. All in all, it surprised Dena as much as anyone else to find out she actually had a mother. A dead one, to be precise. There were the condolences, and then the prying questions, then finally the telltale signs of various mysterious persons getting to her mailbox before herself. By the time her landlady remembered where she had last been reading the most recent letter, it was Thursday afternoon, leaving the girl precious few hours to make her decision.Bluntly, it wasn't easy. On one side of the invisible brass scale was Dena's curiosity. Who was her mother? What was she like? Why did she never contact her daughter? Did she have a father? Was he dead too?Jumping erratically on the opposite side was her apathetic personality, rolling its eyes and saying whatever to the whole situation. This "Aika Graves" didn't bother to find out about you; why bother to find out about her?Yet halfway through the night, the decision stuck itself firmly into her brain, and she was forced to accept it. She was traveling to Brookston. Questions went on and on. None were answered. In that first letter, the Mr. Crannel had acted as though she and her mother had been like bosom buddies. Though, she had been tempted to dispute this "fact". She hadn't. It gave her pleasant feeling, as though it helped to convince her of the existence of the mother-daughter relationship Dena never had. "A kind lady, a wonderful friend, and a genius scientist." And a mother without an adjective. She sounded like an interesting person. Yet, though he had never said it outright, it was obvious. Her mother had been murdered. The thought had had the slightly unstable Melly Adams from the first floor screaming all night. And though her mother's murder in and of herself hadn't been frightening, Melly's screams put a sound to a picture and created a vivid rerun of Aika Graves's death. Except. No matter how many times she played it over, Dena's mental movie never included faces. Neither her mother nor the murderer had a face. That was Dena's mission. Curiosity won over. She was going to Brookston. And regardless of how far the Brookston City Police were from finding the culprit, Dienira was going to fill in both faces. | |
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