Chapter 33. Need a Hand, Brother?
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A rundown house sat alone on the outskirts of the city.
It was late, well past midnight, and the surrounding area was eerily quiet. No lights came from the windows, and the inside was worse: filthy, cluttered, overrun with rats. Dried blood stained the floor.
A massive figure lay sprawled on the ground inside.
Dr. Curt Connors stared at his increasingly green, scaled arm, gritting his teeth. "Damn, parasite... I'm human. I'm Curt Connors. Not a monster."
But the voice in his mind was growing louder, clawing at his thoughts. His vision wavered one of his eyes shifted, the pupil becoming a vertical, reptilian slit.
"Let go... Embrace your true self," the voice hissed. "You're not human. You're a king. The Reptile King. Rule them all of them."
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
Connors grabbed his own neck, trying to choke the transformation out of himself. He hadn't been home in days. His wife thought he was either having an affair or had been sent on some covert assignment. The truth?
He'd been fired. Jobless. Isolated. Drowning.
The serum had failed him. He'd taken it to regrow his missing arm to heal. But instead, it had made him the very thing he feared most: an abomination.