Curt Connors had been waiting for this moment for years. Ever since he had come back from performing surgery on wounded soldiers during the war where he had lost his arm, Connors had become obsessed with the regeneration property found in lizards. Before the blast that took away his arm, he had been a gifted and talented surgeon. Renowned in the US, he made a substantial income, and when he returned he could have easily lived off his earnings. But Connors would always have a love for science, so he became a professor at Empire State University to share his knowledge with others. In his spare time with his steady income he was able to support his own research. He had spent so many years researching and then perfecting his formula, and now his work would pay off.
He had begun the testing on small rodents over three years ago, and over the months and years he began to test larger subjects. The results were miraculous- all of the missing limbs grew back completely healthy, functional, and in proportion, with no side-affects whatsoever. He tested on anything he could get- but the one animal he had trouble getting to cooperate was a human. For over a year he had been searching for a small group of people to start the testing on. He had no luck and was growing impatient. This was a medical miracle, a scientific breakthrough! If no one else would test it, he would have to do so on himself. It was Connors original intent to regain his arm anyway, why shouldn't he be the first to reap the benefits? After the initial testing he was sure companies would pounce on the idea-millions of people could be saved and he would have his arm back again to perform surgery again.
Despite his years or work, Connors was still nervous. He was usually a self-confident man, but at this moment he had his doubts. "It's just nerves," he told himself. He injected himself with the serum. The prick of the needle itself was not painful, but the after effect of the formula was. He became overwhelmed with a sense of vertigo-the room began to spin, and in his efforts to support himself on the desk he fell over onto the floor. Nausea and pain overwhelmed him, the feeling spread over his whole body. He closed his eyes and in moments he had became unconscious.
Connors eyes fluttered open nearly 24 hours later. He felt the cold hard tile floor underneath him, and tried to remember where he was. His thoughts of the previous day floated back to him. He sat up, too quickly, and his head began to throb. He lifted his hands to rub his temples. Hands. Plural. He had two now. He rolled up the sleeve of his white lab coat and inspected his new right arm thoroughly......it was perfect. He stood up, still in amazement. He flexed his hand. He picked up an eraser from the ledge and started erasing madly. He set down the eraser back on the ledge, full of delight. Gleefully he picked up a pen and paper on the desk and started writing. It didn't matter what he wrote, he wrote with his right hand now! Connors had always been right-handed, but after loosing his right arm he had to teach himself to be a lefty. He was ambidextrous now, but it didn't matter, he had his arm back.
He glanced at his watch it was 7:30- of the next day. "Martha and Billy must be worried by now," he thought. It didn't matter though, he had his arm back. He thought of calling them to tell them the good news- no, he would show them in person. He locked up the room, leaving all of his formulations and supplies there- it didn't matter to him, they would be there the next day. His stomach growled as he walked down the secluded hallway. "I haven't eaten in over 24 hours," he thought, "And my body especially needs nourishment after gaining a new part." Nearly out of the building he stared once again at his hand, proud of his accomplishment.
It was just like his old one, except this one was turning green. "Oh god, I've developed an infection. Or maybe my body can't handle the new part and is rejecting it." He ran back to the lab. As he fumbled to unlock the door, he noticed a fine layer of scales covering his right hand and arm........and now his other arm....he opened the door, running inside to find something to better inspect his skin with. As he ran past a glass case he noticed his reflection in it and stopped dead in his tracks.
Connors lifted his claw-like hand to his face...it too was becoming covered with scales. "No!" He gasped, "What's happening to me?" But the rest of his body was almost done transforming, and his words were a hiss.
Meanwhile, at J. Jonah Jameson's office in the Daily Bugle....
"I came here with the pictures, sir." Peter Parker timidly handed his latest photographs to J. Jonah Jameson.
"About time. Where were you, frolicking in Central Park?"
"I was in class sir, I came as soon as it was over." Peter had been trying his best to attend all of his classes. It was hard juggling being both a student and a superhero.
"What a kid like you needs is more experience, not classes at some stuffy university."
J.Jonah Jameson looked over Peter's latest Spider-Man pictures hurriedly.
"What is this, a GQ photo shoot?"
"It was hard to get any interesting action shots, sir, Spider-Man hasn't had any new villains lately, just you know, bank robbers and stuff."
"Well try harder, readers want to see this masked menace in action, not posing with some old geezers. What he needs are some new accomplices, whatever happened to that Doc Ock that he was in cohorts with?"
"He's at the bottom of the river, sir." "I think" he thought, "And he wasn't in cohorts with-"
"What are you, his publicist or something? I bet he's out there right now trying to find some other freak to work with."
Robbie came into the room.
"Would it kill you to knock?"
"Turn on channel 9, there's a mutant loose in the city."
"A mutant, huh? Why are you still standing here, Parker? I don't pay you to stand around and watch my TV. Get some decent pics of this big foot or chupacabra or whatever it is, and some action shots of Spider-Man, too, that masked freak is bound to show up. That's what's going to be our front page tomorrow, not this crap."
Peter took back his pictures and was on his way.
"My old teacher Professor Connors was a reptilian specialist. Maybe I should go to him first to see if he knows anything about this mutant lizard," Peter thought. Finding the nearest dark alley Peter changed into his Spider-Man costume and made his way to Connors lab. He crawled through the window, expecting to find Connors there working late. Instead, he found a forty something woman with short blonde hair crying.
"Spider-Man?"
"The one and only. Looks like I came at a bad time."
"No, well, yes, I mean, it's good you're here. My husband...Curt...he....he's the mutant lizard...he tested the serum on himself....and the effects are only worsening over time. He wrote in the note he left he's forgetting who he is and he doesn't know how much longer he'll be himself....he thought it would be best if Billy and I left town, but I can't leave Curt here, there's got to be a way to save him," Mrs. Connors said, trying to compose herself.
"If all of his work is here, I might be able to find the antidote."
"I didn't know you're a scientist, Spider-Man."
"You could say that. I'm sorry about your husband- it's getting dark out, would you like a certain super hero to escort you home?"
"No, I'll be fine, just please hurry Spider-Man."
Mrs. Connors left the lab, leaving Spider-Man alone to inspect the contents of the room. All of Connors notes and experiments were there, both in paper form and saved on the computer. Supplies were abundant, he had nearly everything he would need-except time. He needed every second he could get. If only there were someone else to help him, someone who was more learned and experienced than he, someone who already knew Doc Connors and would be sympathetic of the case and not rat him out, someone who had all the time in the world. Yes, there was someone.......but Peter wondered if he was still alive.
Spider-Man entered the old abandoned building. It was the last place Doc Ock had been seen, moments prior to his supposed death. It had been searched thoroughly, but maybe he had come back after the accident. Where else could he go? He was wanted for different accounts- murder, destruction, bank robbery, etc. His old apartment that he had shared with his beloved Rosie was already emptied and was back on the market, looking for a new owner.
"Dr. Octavius?" Spider-Man called out searching the room, "I'm here about Dr. Connors."
Spider-Man waited what seemed like a few minutes before he called out again. "It's about the regeneration formula. He tested it on himself. I need your help to find the cure."
A shadowy figure immerged from the darkness.
"I was afraid he'd try to use his research for more practical reasons." Octavius was a wreck- it looked as if he hadn't shaved, showered or slept in weeks. His hair was a mess and a fine layer of stubble was growing across his face. Octavius wasn't angered that Peter, the one who had warned him of a supposed flaw in his own experiment had returned. He was surprised Peter had turned to him for help in light of recent tragedies.
"We both must know that I couldn't have possibly made a mistake." Otto thought. "My ideas are far too advanced to be carried out presently. I'm years before my time. One day my work will be appreciated, mankind is incapable of using this research now."
"Did the arm grow in deformed? Is he experiencing a reverse effect similar to leprosy? Some other unwanted side effect?" Octavius asked out loud.
"You could say that. But we need all the time we can get. We need to get to Dr. Connor's lab, I'll explain there."
They entered Dr. Connor's lab from the windows, and as Peter (still dressed as Spider-Man) explained to Octavius everything he knew about the situation. They both got to work reading over Connors notes, looking over the formulations, and after some extensive reading Octavius took an inventory of the supplies, writing on a sheet of paper that he thought they needed.
"We may need more supplies to find the antidote. He obviously has a wide range of chemicals here, but I'd like to get more. There's no time to waste, you stay here and I'll obtain the chemicals."
Normally as Spider-Man he would object, where would a wanted criminal get them?
"You're not going to do anything illegal, are you?" Peter asked. But Octavius had already left.
"I might as well get out of here, too." Peter thought. "I've got some pictures to take and time's a' waistin'."
Since the lizard had been seen last entering the sewers, Spider-Man figured he should check there first. He entered the first sewer he could find.
"Man, I shoulda brought some nose plugs," he thought. "I bet lizards have a weak sense of smell but spider's sure don't."
After what felt like hours of searching the intricate underground sewer system, Spider-Man saw a figure. It was about six feet tall wearing a white lab coat and bluish pants, both of which were tattered significantly. It's green skin looked tough and it's tail was enormous. Spider-Man hoped he wouldn't have to fight him.
But the giant lizard was preoccupied, happily gnawing on the carcass of a rodent. When it was done peeling off the flesh from its bones, he tossed it aside, searching for another creature to eat. Spider-Man decided not to disturb the lizard, and just stayed back observing and taking pictures silently, careful not to make any sudden movements to be noticed.
"If he was desperate enough to be hunting rats savagely, he's probably not human enough to hold a conversation, and I don't want to risk going to battle with him," Spider-Man thought. A roll of film later he called it quits, and went back to Connors' lab to wait for Dr. Octavius.
He had begun the testing on small rodents over three years ago, and over the months and years he began to test larger subjects. The results were miraculous- all of the missing limbs grew back completely healthy, functional, and in proportion, with no side-affects whatsoever. He tested on anything he could get- but the one animal he had trouble getting to cooperate was a human. For over a year he had been searching for a small group of people to start the testing on. He had no luck and was growing impatient. This was a medical miracle, a scientific breakthrough! If no one else would test it, he would have to do so on himself. It was Connors original intent to regain his arm anyway, why shouldn't he be the first to reap the benefits? After the initial testing he was sure companies would pounce on the idea-millions of people could be saved and he would have his arm back again to perform surgery again.
Despite his years or work, Connors was still nervous. He was usually a self-confident man, but at this moment he had his doubts. "It's just nerves," he told himself. He injected himself with the serum. The prick of the needle itself was not painful, but the after effect of the formula was. He became overwhelmed with a sense of vertigo-the room began to spin, and in his efforts to support himself on the desk he fell over onto the floor. Nausea and pain overwhelmed him, the feeling spread over his whole body. He closed his eyes and in moments he had became unconscious.
Connors eyes fluttered open nearly 24 hours later. He felt the cold hard tile floor underneath him, and tried to remember where he was. His thoughts of the previous day floated back to him. He sat up, too quickly, and his head began to throb. He lifted his hands to rub his temples. Hands. Plural. He had two now. He rolled up the sleeve of his white lab coat and inspected his new right arm thoroughly......it was perfect. He stood up, still in amazement. He flexed his hand. He picked up an eraser from the ledge and started erasing madly. He set down the eraser back on the ledge, full of delight. Gleefully he picked up a pen and paper on the desk and started writing. It didn't matter what he wrote, he wrote with his right hand now! Connors had always been right-handed, but after loosing his right arm he had to teach himself to be a lefty. He was ambidextrous now, but it didn't matter, he had his arm back.
He glanced at his watch it was 7:30- of the next day. "Martha and Billy must be worried by now," he thought. It didn't matter though, he had his arm back. He thought of calling them to tell them the good news- no, he would show them in person. He locked up the room, leaving all of his formulations and supplies there- it didn't matter to him, they would be there the next day. His stomach growled as he walked down the secluded hallway. "I haven't eaten in over 24 hours," he thought, "And my body especially needs nourishment after gaining a new part." Nearly out of the building he stared once again at his hand, proud of his accomplishment.
It was just like his old one, except this one was turning green. "Oh god, I've developed an infection. Or maybe my body can't handle the new part and is rejecting it." He ran back to the lab. As he fumbled to unlock the door, he noticed a fine layer of scales covering his right hand and arm........and now his other arm....he opened the door, running inside to find something to better inspect his skin with. As he ran past a glass case he noticed his reflection in it and stopped dead in his tracks.
Connors lifted his claw-like hand to his face...it too was becoming covered with scales. "No!" He gasped, "What's happening to me?" But the rest of his body was almost done transforming, and his words were a hiss.
Meanwhile, at J. Jonah Jameson's office in the Daily Bugle....
"I came here with the pictures, sir." Peter Parker timidly handed his latest photographs to J. Jonah Jameson.
"About time. Where were you, frolicking in Central Park?"
"I was in class sir, I came as soon as it was over." Peter had been trying his best to attend all of his classes. It was hard juggling being both a student and a superhero.
"What a kid like you needs is more experience, not classes at some stuffy university."
J.Jonah Jameson looked over Peter's latest Spider-Man pictures hurriedly.
"What is this, a GQ photo shoot?"
"It was hard to get any interesting action shots, sir, Spider-Man hasn't had any new villains lately, just you know, bank robbers and stuff."
"Well try harder, readers want to see this masked menace in action, not posing with some old geezers. What he needs are some new accomplices, whatever happened to that Doc Ock that he was in cohorts with?"
"He's at the bottom of the river, sir." "I think" he thought, "And he wasn't in cohorts with-"
"What are you, his publicist or something? I bet he's out there right now trying to find some other freak to work with."
Robbie came into the room.
"Would it kill you to knock?"
"Turn on channel 9, there's a mutant loose in the city."
"A mutant, huh? Why are you still standing here, Parker? I don't pay you to stand around and watch my TV. Get some decent pics of this big foot or chupacabra or whatever it is, and some action shots of Spider-Man, too, that masked freak is bound to show up. That's what's going to be our front page tomorrow, not this crap."
Peter took back his pictures and was on his way.
"My old teacher Professor Connors was a reptilian specialist. Maybe I should go to him first to see if he knows anything about this mutant lizard," Peter thought. Finding the nearest dark alley Peter changed into his Spider-Man costume and made his way to Connors lab. He crawled through the window, expecting to find Connors there working late. Instead, he found a forty something woman with short blonde hair crying.
"Spider-Man?"
"The one and only. Looks like I came at a bad time."
"No, well, yes, I mean, it's good you're here. My husband...Curt...he....he's the mutant lizard...he tested the serum on himself....and the effects are only worsening over time. He wrote in the note he left he's forgetting who he is and he doesn't know how much longer he'll be himself....he thought it would be best if Billy and I left town, but I can't leave Curt here, there's got to be a way to save him," Mrs. Connors said, trying to compose herself.
"If all of his work is here, I might be able to find the antidote."
"I didn't know you're a scientist, Spider-Man."
"You could say that. I'm sorry about your husband- it's getting dark out, would you like a certain super hero to escort you home?"
"No, I'll be fine, just please hurry Spider-Man."
Mrs. Connors left the lab, leaving Spider-Man alone to inspect the contents of the room. All of Connors notes and experiments were there, both in paper form and saved on the computer. Supplies were abundant, he had nearly everything he would need-except time. He needed every second he could get. If only there were someone else to help him, someone who was more learned and experienced than he, someone who already knew Doc Connors and would be sympathetic of the case and not rat him out, someone who had all the time in the world. Yes, there was someone.......but Peter wondered if he was still alive.
Spider-Man entered the old abandoned building. It was the last place Doc Ock had been seen, moments prior to his supposed death. It had been searched thoroughly, but maybe he had come back after the accident. Where else could he go? He was wanted for different accounts- murder, destruction, bank robbery, etc. His old apartment that he had shared with his beloved Rosie was already emptied and was back on the market, looking for a new owner.
"Dr. Octavius?" Spider-Man called out searching the room, "I'm here about Dr. Connors."
Spider-Man waited what seemed like a few minutes before he called out again. "It's about the regeneration formula. He tested it on himself. I need your help to find the cure."
A shadowy figure immerged from the darkness.
"I was afraid he'd try to use his research for more practical reasons." Octavius was a wreck- it looked as if he hadn't shaved, showered or slept in weeks. His hair was a mess and a fine layer of stubble was growing across his face. Octavius wasn't angered that Peter, the one who had warned him of a supposed flaw in his own experiment had returned. He was surprised Peter had turned to him for help in light of recent tragedies.
"We both must know that I couldn't have possibly made a mistake." Otto thought. "My ideas are far too advanced to be carried out presently. I'm years before my time. One day my work will be appreciated, mankind is incapable of using this research now."
"Did the arm grow in deformed? Is he experiencing a reverse effect similar to leprosy? Some other unwanted side effect?" Octavius asked out loud.
"You could say that. But we need all the time we can get. We need to get to Dr. Connor's lab, I'll explain there."
They entered Dr. Connor's lab from the windows, and as Peter (still dressed as Spider-Man) explained to Octavius everything he knew about the situation. They both got to work reading over Connors notes, looking over the formulations, and after some extensive reading Octavius took an inventory of the supplies, writing on a sheet of paper that he thought they needed.
"We may need more supplies to find the antidote. He obviously has a wide range of chemicals here, but I'd like to get more. There's no time to waste, you stay here and I'll obtain the chemicals."
Normally as Spider-Man he would object, where would a wanted criminal get them?
"You're not going to do anything illegal, are you?" Peter asked. But Octavius had already left.
"I might as well get out of here, too." Peter thought. "I've got some pictures to take and time's a' waistin'."
Since the lizard had been seen last entering the sewers, Spider-Man figured he should check there first. He entered the first sewer he could find.
"Man, I shoulda brought some nose plugs," he thought. "I bet lizards have a weak sense of smell but spider's sure don't."
After what felt like hours of searching the intricate underground sewer system, Spider-Man saw a figure. It was about six feet tall wearing a white lab coat and bluish pants, both of which were tattered significantly. It's green skin looked tough and it's tail was enormous. Spider-Man hoped he wouldn't have to fight him.
But the giant lizard was preoccupied, happily gnawing on the carcass of a rodent. When it was done peeling off the flesh from its bones, he tossed it aside, searching for another creature to eat. Spider-Man decided not to disturb the lizard, and just stayed back observing and taking pictures silently, careful not to make any sudden movements to be noticed.
"If he was desperate enough to be hunting rats savagely, he's probably not human enough to hold a conversation, and I don't want to risk going to battle with him," Spider-Man thought. A roll of film later he called it quits, and went back to Connors' lab to wait for Dr. Octavius.