Consumption

“Thank you for getting me in so late.” Sirius stepped back into the MRI room, Dr. Podmore handed him a hospital gown to change into.

“I like to work late anyways; I find it more peaceful than working the busy mornings.” He gave Sirius a reassuring smile before leaving the room and allowing the man to change.

Sirius had been wanting to get more tests done, and after the reassurance from Remus, he finally made the appointment. He was getting another MRI, this one focusing on a different part of his brain, allowing for a more thorough exam and effectively crossing everything off of the list of possibilities.

Dr. Podmore came back, setting up the machine as Sirius laid down on the uncomfortable bed. He had asked for the latest appointment due to work, not wanting to have to miss any progression of the case.

“You should be good to go in about an hour.” The doctor said before handing Sirius the earplugs and walking to the imaging room. The loud machine whirled to life and the bed slowly slid back.

The room was dark when Sirius exited the machine. He pulled the earplugs out of his ears, throwing them in the bin nearby and quickly changed into his normal clothes before exiting the MRI room and walking into the viewing room.

“Dr. Podmore?” The man didn’t reply, the unlit room dead silent. Sirius felt a pit grow in his stomach; the feeling of unease prominent as he left the room.

The hallway was bright, the fluorescent lights burning Sirius’ eyes as he made his way to the doctor's office. Sirius was on edge, walking as light as possible on the ugly brown carpet until he reached a slightly open door, a gold nameplate reading ‘Dr. Podmore’ screwed into the wood.

Sirius pulled his hand back just as he was about to grip the handle. Smears of blood coated the silver knob, reflecting the lights from above.

His sleeve covered his hand as he gently pushed the door open, “Dr. Podmore?”

The man sat at his desk, his back to Sirius, facing the opposite wall. Sirius stepped forward, the smell of blood getting more prominent the closer he got. He moved around the desk, inching forward until he stood in front of the doctor.

His head was slumped against the back of his chair, blood streaked down his face. His eyelids were pulled up to his forehead, just like Pandora had done to that woman; but this time, his eye sockets were empty. Bloody flesh stared up at Sirius from where his eyes were scooped out of his head. Besides the two knives in Dr. Podmores forehead, there was one bloody knife sitting on the desk, the one presumably used to remove the man's eyeballs.

Sirius couldn’t stop staring. This wasn’t Pandora.

The FBI team flooded the room, getting to work collecting and photographing evidence.

“Are you okay?” James asked, the second he laid eyes on Sirius. The man’s elbows were on his knees as he stared at the floor, thoughts racing in his head on how this could’ve happened, he had been here the whole time.

“I’m not sure.” Sirius’ voice was quiet, he couldn’t bring himself to look up at his brother, he felt almost shameful.

“Why would our killer come all the way out here just to kill Dr. Podmore?” Dumbledore asked. Sirius could see his shiny shoes in front of him, indicating that the question was directed towards him.

“Me.”

“You?” An annoyed sigh came out of Dumbledore before he started asking more questions. “Okay, why you?”

“I don’t know. But I spoke to her…” Sirius tried to think about how this could’ve happened. This wasn’t Pandora. “I told her that everything was okay.”

“So she killed your doctor?”

“This wasn’t Pandora.”

Sirius could feel James’ concerned gaze on him, he chose to ignore it. He knew he would be the main suspect once he gave his theory, he was the only one here at the time, but he couldn’t lie to himself and say this was Pandora when it very clearly was not.

“Did Dr. Podmore tend to take such late appointments?”

“He was very accommodating.” Sirius finally looked up at Dumbledore, the man's face as cool as stone. “I know what you’re implying Albus. I was in the MRI machine for an hour.”

“Have you lost time? Have you had any confusion?” The worst part of this question was that Sirius couldn’t give him a direct yes or no, because in all honesty, he didn’t know. His mind has been playing tricks on him for months. He couldn’t tell reality from hallucinations, and that scared him. It made him unreliable, if he couldn’t trust his own judgement, how could anyone else?

“Not that I am aware of.” Sirius finally settled on, clasping his hands together.

“Not that your-” Dumbledore cut himself off with a scoff, his voice raising. “Did you or did you not kill this man!”

“Dumbledore-” James tried to cut in but was quickly silenced by a harsh look.

Sirius’ tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek as he contemplated his words. “No. No I didn’t.”

“I don’t know if I can trust you right now.” Sirius nodded in understanding, watching the older man walk away to talk to Peter.

“Sirius.”

“James, can we not right now? Please.” Sirius’ voice cracked as he pleaded for the conversation to end. He knew it was impossible that he killed Dr. Podmore, but that didn’t stop the anxiety creeping up his chest telling him that he did, that he had lost time and committed this act of murder.

“You don’t have a drop of blood on you Sirius, you couldn’t have done this.” Peter noted as he walked over to look over Sirius for any evidence.

“It wasn’t Pandora though. The eyes.” Sirius pointed out, watching as Marlene and Dorcas worked to bag the body of Dr. Podmore. “It’s so different, yet so familiar.”

He felt like he was going crazy, his mind racing over all the visible evidence and possibilities. The pinned eyelids. The missing eyes…the missing eyes. The missing organs.

Sirius let out a laugh. A hysterical sound that caught the room's attention. He felt tears swell in his eyes as he laughed and laughed and laughed.

“He’s messing with us.” Sirius broke through the spouts of laughter. “He’s playing a game, and we all fell for it.”

“Siri, what are you talking about?” James's eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked about two seconds away from admitting Sirius to the hospital.

“The Artist!”

“This has nothing to do with The Artist.” Dumbledore said from across the room.

“No, no! It has everything to do with The Artist.” Sirius’ voice was like venom, the fast mood change shocking everyone. “It’s one big elaborate game and he is loving the fact that we are playing it! He followed me here. He followed me here and killed doctor Podmore! Just like he killed the man with the harp. He’s the copycat killer and all of you guys are ignoring it. He’s having fun, he knows that we won’t catch him because no one is listening! Except me…except me. He’s pushing me, he knows that I see him.”

Sirius stood up from his chair, his hands raking through his hair as he tried to organize his thoughts.

“Sir, we’ve got prints.” Dumbledore’s head snapped to the agent bent over one of the knives. They whispered back and forth, urgent tones breaking through.

“He’s going to keep killing like this; as a copycat. We’re going to be chasing our tails-”

“They’re your prints Sirius.” James grabbed his shoulder, making him look him in the eyes. Dumbledore stood off to the side, he must have said something that Sirius didn’t hear,

“What?”

“Your prints were on the knife.” James repeated, and for once in the entire time Sirus has known James, he couldn’t read him. His face was closed off, completely shut down. Sirius didn’t even know James could do that.

“That’s not possible, I was getting an MRI.”

“At ten at night?” Dumbledore questioned. “Is there anything that can back this up?”

“I don’t,” Sirius felt panic seize his chest. “I don’t know. Maybe he kept a schedule. I don’t know.”

An evidence bag got shoved in front of his eyes, a hunting knife sitting at the bottom of it. Sirius’ jaw dropped open in recognition and shock.

“That’s my knife.” Sirius wasn’t even certain he said that out loud considering how quiet it was.

“Pardon?”

“That’s my fucking knife!” Sirius shouted, pulling away from James’ grip. “Of course it has my fucking prints on it. He stole it from my house.”

His head ached as the situation got even crazier. He kept that knife in his bedside drawer, it never moved. It was the last gift that Sirius had gotten from Regulus before he left, he always kept it close by. This killer knew where Sirius lived, he stole the knife, followed Sirius to his appointment, and killed Dr. Podmore. And now, Sirius was getting framed.

“It has Pandora’s prints too!” Peter practically shouted, running to show Dumbledore the results. Sure enough, a fresher set of prints showed through, Pandora’s standing prominent around his own.

“It wasn’t her!” Sirius was losing his mind; it didn’t make sense how Pandora’s prints were there when she didn’t kill this man. The techniques are completely different, and it goes against her motives. “She isn’t trying to completely maim her victims; she’s just trying to make them look normal. This was an act of brutality, not mental illness.”

James and Peter shared concerned glances as Sirius started mumbling to himself, his hand came up to his face, roughly wiping a sheen of sweat away.

“Get him out of here.” Dumbledore said roughly to James. He gently took Sirius' arm, steering him out of the building and towards his car.

“Come on, let’s go home.”