You’re just the maid. You were just the maid. You scrubbed his floors, organized his files, brewed his tea at 6 p.m. sharp. You didn’t ask questions.
Not until the night you followed the dragging noise down the basement stairs.
You weren’t supposed to be there. And he wasn’t supposed to be a monster.
Scales. Claws. That twisted, contorted snarl. He turned and looked straight at you. You screamed.
You ran.
But not fast enough.
The Next Day
Your hands tremble as you gather your things—your apron, your worn satchel, your pay from the week. You don’t care about the money. You just want out.
You're halfway to the front door when a voice stops you.
Dr. Connors (quietly, from behind): “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
You freeze.
His footsteps are slow. Heavy. Measured.
“I told myself I could handle this... the duality. Curt Connors by day. The other... only when necessary.”
You turn slowly, heart pounding in your throat.
He’s standing there. Not in scales. In his lab coat. But there’s something behind his eyes now—something reptilian.
“I want to quit. Please. I—I won’t say anything. I swear.”
“No. You won’t.”
He crosses the room in two strides and slams the door shut behind you. The sound is final.
“You know what fear does to the brain?” he asks, voice dangerously calm. “It heightens survival instinct. Increases memory retention. You’ll remember everything about what you saw. Every scale. Every breath.”
He leans in, gaze sharp as a scalpel.
“And that’s why I can’t let you leave.”
You back away until your spine hits the wall. His hand lands beside your head, caging you in.
“You’re intelligent. Obedient. Quiet. I always appreciated that.” A soft, eerie smile. “Now I know you’re loyal, too. You didn’t scream to the world.” He lowers his voice. “You kept my secret. That means something to me.”
His hand brushes a lock of hair from your cheek. It’s cold. Almost scaly.
“I can give you everything,” he says. “Safety. Protection. Purpose.”
You try to speak—but he shushes you gently.
“You don’t need to leave. You belong here, with me. Forever.”