Who: Adrienne OâCarroll What: Framing Phoenix for murder, you know, girl stuff Where: New York When: Saturday morning, September 16th 2017 Warnings: Graphic NPC death
Her hatred for Bellatrixâs cousin ran deep. Ever since he and his idiot friends had resurfaced, Adrienne had been itching to do something about it. The only reason she hadnât made a more concentrated effort against him aside from the âharmlessâ taunts and gifts sheâd sent spread out over time, was out of respect to Robert and whatever plans he had for the newest version of the Boy Who Lived. Reincarnation had managed to make that particular title even more of a jab because no matter how many times they succeeded in killing the runt, Harry Potter would always find a way back, even without any Deathly Hallows or inconvenient Horcruxes. That was irritating. Once you were dead, you were supposed to stay dead.
When Bellatrix Lestrange killed you, you were supposed to stay dead. You certainly werenât supposed to come back like nothing had ever happened. That was just insulting. Did he really think she would just let him get away with it? Maybe Officer Phoenix Schwartz didnât know Adrienne very well, but she would have thought Sirius knew his cousin a little bit better than that.
Once she had permission from Robert to move forward with her plans, it all became very easy. Sheâd already been observing Phoenix and his friends for months, they had no idea just how closely sheâd been watching them. The few indications sheâd given didnât even scratch the surface of how sheâd been following their every move, how many times sheâd lurked near the police station, their own apartment. How many chances sheâd already had to kill them and they didnât even know how closely theyâd come to death. She wasnât normally a patient woman, but working under Robert Kingsley had been an exercise in newfound patience for Adrienne, her to desire not to displease him greater than her desire for vengeance, no matter how much she resented Black, Potter, and their mangy friend Lupin. Snape too, and sheâd need to be more careful before she crossed him again, but this? This would be mere childâs play in comparison.
Sheâd thought about killing the poor, unsuspecting man while they were still in bed, the idea of Phoenix waking up to a body covered in blood gave Adrienne so much glee that she very nearly gave in. No. It would be better if he had no idea just how screwed he was until it was too late. Sheâd taken careful steps to make sure sheâd planned for everything, right down to lifting some hairs off of Starkâs desk while they werenât in the station for a convenient polyjuice potion later that evening so when Phoenix told his trusty friend Rowan that he was off with someone else for the night, he wouldnât have any idea he wasnât talking to his friend Rowan Stark at all. From there, Adrienne stalked Phoenix back to the apartment of his flavor for the night and waited.
Mercifully, she didnât have a front row seat to the main event. All she had to do was wait for Phoenix to leave the next morning before apparating into his left overâs apartment, and after a brief struggle, it all happened fairly quickly. She had to make it look gruesome, like the work of somebody who had just finally snapped. Phoenix Schwartz had enough of a murky reputation not even factoring his reincarnate into it to make that plausible. Cops went around shooting people for no reason all the time these days. Who says one wouldnât just decide to snap and cut up the man he slept with the next morning? Sheâd make it look convincing.
âP-please⌠please d-donât do this to me,â the man whimpered where he was tied to the bed. The same bed he and Phoenix had no doubt used during the night, and not just for sleeping. There had to be loads of physical evidence just on the sheets alone, but just in case, Adrienne was prepared to make sure there was enough DNA throughout the place to leave no question as to who was in this apartment, including fingerprints. Adrienne had taken some of Phoenixâs hairs too, so the face this man was looking at wasnât hers. It was the face of the man heâd slept with the night before. The last face he ever saw would be Phoenixâs as she cut into him.
âThereâs no use begginâ, dear, youâre already dead!â Adrienne cooed cheerfully, the sound of it deeper and more masculine to her ears than she was used to. She gagged him for good measure, just so no one heard him screaming and came running before she wanted them to. Then she went to work mapping out his body with a knife, carving into tender, exposed skin while he struggled against his bindings, muffled screams sounding from behind the gag over his mouth. She didnât stop until there was blood everywhere, on her and soaked into the sheets.
He was still hanging onto life even after sheâd all but flayed him alive, but barely. After all was said and done, she slit his throat, letting him bleed out while she straddled him, still hog tied to his own bed. In the end, it would look like a crime of passion. A one night stand gone horribly wrong. Maybe there would be people that would have their doubts about Phoenixâs involvement, even with all of the evidence stacked against him, but at the end of it, everyone would inevitably come to the conclusion that it had only been a matter of time before Phoenix Schwartz snapped.
With a resounding crack, Adrienne disapparated from the crime scene, only leaving behind the murder weapon with his fingerprints all over it and the sound of her own laughter as it echoed off the walls, the polyjuice potion already starting to fade.