The rumble of a motorcycle engine gradually faded as Nolan brought his scooter to a stop beside a dilapidated street in the Brown Crown District.
Not far ahead, an old two-story house sat hidden among overgrown trees. The property had the neglected appearance of a place abandoned by its neighbors, the kind of residence people avoided looking at directly.
According to the information Nolan had gathered, Curtis Connors had moved here after his expulsion from Midtown High School. He'd left his Manhattan apartment behind and relocated to this poor community with a predominantly Latino population.
The decrepit two-story building before him served as Connors's temporary refuge from a world that had turned against him.
Nolan dismounted and secured the motorcycle. His cyan wolf eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, first swept the surrounding area in a careful visual scan. His enhanced hearing extended outward, sampling sounds from every direction.
After confirming no one was present within several hundred meters, he moved quickly through the shadows cast by overhanging trees. His boots crunched through fallen leaves that hadn't been cleared from the private driveway in what appeared to be weeks or months. He approached the building's entrance with cautious steps.
Nolan's brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at the porch. Numerous messy footprints tracked through dust. Piles of takeout boxes formed miniature towers in the corners, their contents long since rotted. The accumulation suggested either complete apathy or an inability to maintain basic cleanliness.
He licked unconsciously across his fangs, a habit he was developing.
Nolan raised one black-gloved hand toward the door. Before his knuckles could make contact, a breeze swept past.
The door, which had been slightly ajar, swung slowly open with a prolonged creak of unoiled hinges.
Nolan's expression remained neutral, but his lips curved into a humorless smile. He twisted his neck from side to side, loosening the muscles, preparing his body for potential violence.
His tall figure swayed slightly as he crossed the threshold, entering the dimly lit house without hesitation or fear.
The assault on his senses was immediate and overwhelming.
Countless complex, nauseating smells rushed directly into Nolan's nasal cavity, his enhanced olfactory senses processing each individual component with unfortunate clarity.
The sour reek of rotting food dominated, probably days or weeks old. The stench of fermented dirty clothes added a secondary layer of offense. But worst was the pungent smell of strange vomit, foam-like in texture based on the odor profile, splattered throughout the residence.
Beneath all of this, a faint but persistent fishy smell permeated the entire house's atmosphere. Something reptilian. Something wrong.
Nolan's attention caught on a detail. The mirror near the entrance and any other reflective surfaces he could see had been deliberately covered. Cloth draped over glass. Paper taped to metal. Someone didn't want to see their own reflection.
Years of combat experience triggered instant recognition. Nolan immediately raised his hand and removed his sunglasses, sliding them into his pocket. His cyan wolf eyes would serve him better than limited human vision in the gloom.
He narrowed those inhuman eyes and called out softly, "Mr. Connors?"
His voice echoed through the dimly lit house, the sound seeming to travel farther than it should in the oppressive atmosphere.
Several breaths passed. No response came.
Squeak. Squeak.
Nolan's boots pressed against the dirty floor, which produced creepy sounds with each step. Floorboards protesting weight, or something else? He couldn't determine which.
He moved carefully deeper into the house, maintaining heightened awareness of his surroundings. After passing through the old entrance corridor, he emerged into what had once been a living room.
Now it was a disaster zone.
Nolan stared at the walls, his expression emotionless despite what he saw. Deep claw marks scored the surfaces, some gouges penetrating entirely through the drywall to reveal wooden studs beneath. Furniture lay in pieces, broken and scattered. A couch had been literally torn apart, its stuffing decorating the floor like artificial snow.
The scene confirmed his suspicions completely. Biology teacher Curtis Connors had already begun transforming into the Lizard.
"Perhaps I'm too late. This might be a wasted trip," Nolan muttered, deliberately raising his voice so the words would carry throughout the structure.
His gaze suddenly shifted upward, focusing on the ceiling.
In the same instant, both legs bent at the knees. Nolan's enhanced physiology unleashed, and his tall figure launched upward from a standing position with explosive force!
One muscular arm extended upward. His palm, tipped with sharp claws, suddenly punched through the ceiling material!
He felt his fingertips pierce cold flesh. The sensation was distinct, unmistakable.
As gravity began pulling him back down, Nolan roared with effort. His arm muscles bulged as he gripped whatever he'd caught and pulled.
A massive figure came crashing down from the ceiling with him!
The sound of splintering wood filled the air. Ceiling fragments rained down in a cascade of broken boards and insulation. Drywall dust created a choking cloud.
A terrifying humanoid lizard crashed heavily onto the floor, its body covered in dark green keratinous scales that gleamed wetly in the dim light!
It lay sprawled on the ground, cloudy eyes wide and unfocused. Its mouth, filled with multiple rows of sharp teeth, opened to release a hissing sound that was distinctly inhuman.
The moment Nolan's feet touched solid ground again, his lips pulled back to expose his fangs in an unconscious display of aggression.
But he didn't give his opponent, still disoriented from the sudden violence, any chance to recover!
Moving with enhanced speed, his fingertips dug deep into the creature's thick, muscular tail. His entire body contracted rhythmically, every muscle fiber contributing to the effort. Both hearts in his chest beat in accelerated tandem, pumping enhanced blood through his system.
Nolan swung the massive humanoid lizard like a weapon and hurled it toward the living room wall!
The Lizard's heavy body slammed into the structure with devastating force. The impact embedded the creature partially into the fragile wooden wall, cracking studs and pulverizing drywall.
Before it could struggle free and regain its footing, Nolan rushed forward!
His ten sharp claws, now dripping with green blood from his initial strike, became blurs of motion. He swung both palms in wide, aggressive arcs.
The fighting style resembled Wolverine's berserker approach, all savage aggression without defensive consideration.
His claws tore through scales and flesh repeatedly. Half the humanoid lizard's chest was shredded by the sharp fingertips, exposing white bone beneath the ruined tissue!
Green blood sprayed everywhere. Torn scales and chunks of flesh covered the surrounding floor and walls. Even Nolan's chest became painted with the creature's lifeblood as he pressed his assault without mercy.
After several dozen seconds of relentless attack, the humanoid lizard had no power left to resist. Its heavy body slowly slid down the wall, leaving a trail of green across the surface.
Nolan's cyan wolf eyes had opened wide during the frenzy. Now he stopped attacking immediately, his enhanced self-control reasserting dominance over animal instinct.
He stared at the humanoid lizard. Its massive body was gradually shrinking, reverting to something more human-sized. Simultaneously, the horrible injuries he'd inflicted were visibly healing. Flesh knitted back together. Scales regenerated. The regeneration factor was impressive, if disturbing to witness.
Nolan released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
He took several measured steps backward, putting distance between himself and his victim. His tongue licked across his fangs, a gesture that helped him center his thoughts.
"Mr. Connors," he asked in a deep voice, deliberately calm. "Are you awake?"
"This damned transformation doesn't clear my memory. I remember everything!" The figure on the floor opened its eyes. Broken scales still clung to exposed skin that was slowly fading from reptilian green to more normal human tones. Curtis Connors's voice was hoarse, damaged, but recognizably human.
He grimaced as he forced words past damaged vocal cords. "Who are you? Who sent you to kill me? Official government? Or—"
"Oh, Mr. Connors, it seems you've made quite a few enemies," Nolan interrupted with a slight smile. His gaze focused on Connors's slowly withering right arm, the damaged limb that had started this entire tragic sequence. He displayed his fangs in what might have been meant as a friendly expression. "Are you interested in working for me? I can provide everything you need, including personal safety."
"You... you're not here to kill me?" Connors lay curled on the ground, his disheveled blond hair falling across his face. Confusion dominated his expression as he squinted up at Nolan's tall figure with its obviously inhuman features.
Hearing vulnerability entering the other man's tone, Nolan narrowed his cyan wolf eyes. His smile remained as he spoke with deliberate calm. "Mr. Connors, if I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead. I had ample opportunity during your disoriented state."
In the next moment, Nolan's expression shifted back to neutrality. He shook his palm, flinging droplets of green blood across the already-stained floor.
Then, almost casually, he drew a plasma pistol from inside his jacket. The weapon emerged smoothly, his finger resting on the trigger with practiced ease. The barrel pointed directly at Connors, whose expression transformed rapidly into panic.
Nolan lowered his head slightly, looking down at the prone man. A hint of coldness flashed through his cyan wolf eyes, replacing the earlier warmth.
He asked softly, almost gently, "However, there is one small problem we need to resolve. The missing girl from Midtown High School. Was that related to you?"
"I didn't do anything to hurt anyone! I conducted experiments on myself, not others!" Even facing what appeared to be execution, Connors's expression remained solemn and sincere. He gathered his scattered golden hair away from his forehead with his remaining hand, the gesture somehow maintaining dignity despite his circumstances.
He raised his chin slightly, meeting Nolan's gaze directly. "Neither my morality nor my rational mind would allow me to harm students. The school administration simply wanted to avoid responsibility and chose me as a convenient scapegoat because I'm weak, isolated, easy to blame."
His words came faster, desperation bleeding into his tone. "But you can verify this yourself. Check the case information. Even after I was fired, similar disappearances continued! If I were responsible, they would have stopped!"
Nolan, who had already reviewed the case files before coming here, allowed his expression to shift. His fangs showed in a genuine smile this time. He slowly returned the plasma pistol to its concealment.
His smile brightened, becoming almost warm. "Welcome to the team, Mr. Connors."
The biochemist stared up at him, still processing the rapid shift from mortal danger to employment offer, trying to understand exactly what had just happened to his life.
Nolan extended one clawed hand downward, offering to help the man to his feet. "Let's discuss your new position, shall we? I think you'll find the research opportunities quite fascinating."