It was Julia.
She had come to his apartment. He didn't know how she had found him. Maybe she'd looked him up through the company records. It didn't much matter now. She was here. He considered ignoring her, but she knocked again. He couldn't leave her standing out there. He had a feeling she wouldn't leave anyway.
His hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitant, but he finally unlocked the door and opened it slightly. Turning, he made his way back into the living room where he stood in front of the soft light coming through the blinds covering the windows. The setting sun had turned the light red and orange through the slatted blinds, framing him against the blackness of the room. He saw the door swing open gingerly and she appeared, silhouetted in light. His breath caught in his throat. Behind him, he felt the arms flexing casually, and two of them appeared to be watching her, over his shoulders. Otto swallowed as the other two focused on her as well.
Whispering voices again. Otto ground his teeth, trying to ignore them. The more he tried to drown them out, the louder they became.
Julia looked around the room hesitantly. Why was it so dark in here? She suddenly felt panicky. Maybe it was wrong of her to come. She could see glints of light reflecting off something further inside the room.
"Otto? I don't want to intrude. I…I just wanted to talk to you. It's just me. I didn't…I didn't tell the police anything," she said, the words tripping over themselves to get out. She stepped inside the room, opening the door wider to let in more light.
"Shut the door," he said bluntly. She heard the gruffness in his voice and pushed the door shut quickly.
"I can't see anything," she stammered. "Can I turn on a light?" She shuffled farther into the room, keeping her arms held slightly in front of her.
"Your eyes will adjust. Why did you come here?" he said. She came closer. Her eyes did adjust after a while. Everything was silhouetted in the setting sun coming from the windows in what looked like the kitchen. She could not see his face clearly, but she could see the arms shifting silently behind his back as if they were restless. She noticed all of the claws were open, and were eerily pointed in her direction.
"I told you. I wanted to talk to you. Why are you still wearing the arms? What were you doing out on the street today? I saw you with Spiderman. What were you talking about?" she asked in a flurry of words, wringing her hands together. There was awkward silence.
"Something happened at the lab last night. After you left. There was …… an accident." Julia came closer still, ignoring the disturbing tone in his voice. He said no more, but he wouldn't look at her. Julia reached out to touch his arm but she recoiled as a tentacle shot through the darkness and blocked her. It wasn't violent, but she was shocked at how fast it had reacted. The claw twisted around and spread its pinchers wide. She backed away from it and swallowed.
"You don't understand – I can't answer any of your questions. Leave my apartment," he said, moving up the step to the kitchen area in front of the large wall length windows.
"No, Otto. You don't understand. It took a lot…a lot for me to come here and see you. I…don't usually do that. Especially with...." she trailed, unsure of what she was trying to say. "Why won't you let me see you? What happened? What, were you, burned or something? I can't understand why – " she said, aggravated with his strange behavior.
Suddenly he exploded, startling her enough to back away.
"What do you WANT from me?! Do you really want to see this thing that I've become?! Is that what you WANT?!" he snapped viciously, slamming his fist onto the counter beside him. One of the arms snapped its claws shut with a sharp clack. Julia shook her head, tears running down her face. What had happened to the quiet, gentle man she had talked to only yesterday?
"I just wanted to help you," she started, but abruptly stopped as a flash of silver shot over to the window. A claw snatched the blinds and tore them from the frame violently, letting in the red and orange light of the setting sun as they clattered in a heap to the floor. Julia stood shaking, her hands still covering her mouth.
"Now you see what I am," he hissed. Julia had no words, her eyes flicking from the scars that lay like jagged bolts from under his sunglasses to his heaving chest, where pinkish scars encircled his torso above the metal belt. Each of the arms had coiled in large arcs around his body, all of the claws focused on her now.
"Oh my God – how…how is that possible?!" she cried, staring at the painful looking tattered flesh below his chest. He clenched the edge of the counter and glared down at her coldly.
"Leave. Get out."
The words were bitter. Julia looked towards the door of the apartment and tried to calm down before turning back towards him. When she turned back, she saw him staring down at the counter. The muscles in his jaw were working furiously. Otto kept his gaze centered on the counter before him as she moved up the stairs, slowly walking to his side. At first she simply stared at the foreign metal spine that ran down the center of his back and connected to the belt at the waist. But her gaze drifted up his figure to his shoulders and then his face, partially covered in shadow.
She laid her hand on his and felt his grip on the counter loosen. Two of the claws had shifted, still watching her, while the other two arced loosely at his sides.
He hesitantly turned to face her. "I didn't come here to hurt you," she said. For a moment he studied her tear-stained face, then he turned his gaze away.
Whispering voices.
The room was silent except for their breathing now. She lifted her hands and slowly laid them on the sides of his face and made him look at her. His entire body tensed against her touch, but he didn't fight her as she let her fingers drift lightly over his cheeks, over his fresh scars, and down his neck, her caressing touch foreign…but permitted.
"Scars don't scare me," she finally whispered. Otto found it difficult to breathe. What was she doing? Why was she doing this? When her splayed fingers reached his abdomen, he grabbed her hands roughly and she looked up, her eyes glistening.
"These scars scare even me," he said bitterly. Julia swallowed, looking at the clenched claws that hung loosely around him and then to Otto's despairing face.
"Please. Leave me," he whispered, his voice cracking again.
"I can't imagine what you must be feeling right now. But please. Don't shut me out," she whispered, realizing she was pressing up against him now. She could feel his heart racing, much like her own.
"You can't possibly understand," he said after a moment, backing away from her. "You'll never…never know…" he stuttered, falling back against the counter near the windows, pressing his hands against his temples once again. The arms reached out and clamped onto the shelves and counters, slowly crushing them. Wood splintered and dropped from the cracking cabinets as they tightened their grip. Julia backed away.
Voices. Stop. Please stop.
A deep, guttural moan escaped Otto as he slowly slid down the wall, his back to the windows. The arms flexed, scraping against the glass with a high-pitched screech as he sank down to the floor. Julia stood at the base of the steps now, unsure of what to do. She couldn't leave him like this. Her heart thundered in her chest and she fought the terrible fear that sat in the pit of her stomach.
"Otto…please, talk to me," she whispered, sinking to her knees on the stairs. The claws at the ends of the arms rotated and flickered slightly in different directions. Otto lifted his hands from his face, his eyes trained on her. He stared at her for a long while before finally speaking.
"I've got metal arms welded into the base of my spine, Julia. I can feel everything they do. I can feel all the twisting and pulling on my body each time they move. I can control what they do down to the exact millisecond the thought pops into my mind," he said slowly and deliberately, as if explaining to a child, carefully standing again against the window. Metal scraped glass again. Julia winced at the sound and pressed herself back against the wall, holding her knees closer to her chest.
"I can hear them now. I can hear the goddamned things like they're alive. A steady hissing of unrelenting, mechanical speech. It's like an extra part of my conscience that I can't turn off. I can't escape it."
"You're still the man you were," Julia started, but bit her lip as Otto's gaze turned into a dark glare.
"After what has happened to me? After today's little stunt? You really, seriously believe I can just take a stroll into town without being on the receiving end of the public's scorn? Jesus, Julia! They were shooting at me!" he said scornfully, gesturing out the window to the darkening streets of the city. "I really shouldn't be surprised that it has come to this. I've been under scrutiny since I was a child. I was the one singled out. I was the one who never fit in. I was the one who was better off alone. You really think things have improved!?" Otto was walking across the kitchen now, all four arms wavering around him and flexing menacingly. Julia started to stand up, suddenly fearing him and what he could do. He wouldn't hurt her, would he?
"Despite all I've done in my life, its never enough, is it? I'm tired of always giving and never receiving. Always being picked apart and questioned, always under-appreciated by hordes of people who are significantly inferior to myself." Otto stopped a foot in front of her. Julia suspected Otto was rambling now, a senseless torrent of raw emotion, but she said nothing.
"I cannot go back to that life," he said with a sense of finality. Julia looked into his dark eyes, holding his stare for a moment before she did moved, putting her hand on the back of his neck. Pressing her fingertips into the metal tip of the tentacle's spine, she pulled him forward; surprised he had not reacted to stop her. The tentacles reacted, though, and two grabbed at her other arm, a reflex of surprise, but they did not clamp down. Otto let out his breath.
Julia was holding him.
"Please. Let me be there with you. I want to help you," she said, still holding him in that unblinking stare. Otto slowly wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him, feeling as though he was somehow indulging in something forbidden. It was quiet as they stood together in the darkness. He took comfort in her presence, the pain and the voices suddenly less intense. The feel of her body so close to his was…invigorating. It was a feeling he had not experienced in a very long time. She was offering him acceptance. How many times had he encountered such a thing? Once. Only once. She had put her head against his chest now. He swallowed again.
Acceptance?
Or pity?
Otto stiffened at the thought. Pity. He didn't want anyone's pity. In fact, it was he who should pity everyone else, simply for being happy with being ignorant. For not being aware of just how inferior they were.
Keep your pity.
"I'm here for you," Julia said again, startling him back to the present. Otto said nothing as he slowly released her. She very well may be offering him acceptance – but he knew how that would end.
Keep it.
She stepped back, suddenly looking very embarrassed.
Why did I do that? I probably…scared him away…why did I DO that?
"Will you be okay, tonight? Can I bring you anything?" she said, tugging at the end of her shirt as she edged for the door.
"No. I'll be fine. Go home." She nodded and turned away. He watched her leave, listening to the door click shut behind her. He stood alone in the dark, gazing at the cityscape outside the windows across the room with his hands folded behind him.
Don't you worry about those sour grapes, honey. Lock it all away. Lock it away forever.
"I'll be fine," he said aloud to no one.
I'll be fine. Better than fine. I've finally realized my own potential. I'm afraid that's bad news for everyone else, though.
A smile curled his lips as one of the arms reached to the table beside the door, wrenching open the drawer and snapping up a box of cigars. A gift from Oscorp the day he had been named head of the Chemlab department. Without moving a muscle, he clipped the end of one cigar and struck a match, setting the box back into the drawer. A fragrant cloud of smoke trailed behind him as he carried himself to the kitchen.
I'm no longer bound to the laws of the weak human condition. I'm over and beyond that now. The tentacle tapped the cigar once and then stuck it between his teeth. They won't be ready for me.
He smirked to himself at the ludicrous nickname those halfwits back at Oscorp had given him. The name which he had loathed only days ago. Doctor Octopus.
Let them call him whatever they wished. Tendrils of smoke curled around his head and dissipated as they reached the tentacles gently wavering in the air above him.
He chuckled. After all… what is in a name?