Chapter Text
Cub grew up with his parents in a large house in a small town with monster-infested woods. He was always told, "never go in the attic." So, he didn't. He was a good son. And his parents were good parents. They were esteemed scientists. Cub followed in their footsteps easily. People in his high school would wonder why he never got a girlfriend, what with his messy dark hair, juniper-green eyes, and excellent grades. A smile from him was rare, but disarming. Cub went to a top university.
Two days before his final PhD exams, he received the news that his parents died in a freak car accident. He'd inherit all of their possessions and money. With that... he wouldn't even need a job. He flew to his hometown for the funeral. And he returned the morning of finals to take them. He graduated with high honors. He was guaranteed a job at the lab his parents worked for. Normally, he'd have to rent an apartment. But he had a house already there, the large house in the small town with monster-infested woods. He came a few days before his first day on the job to explore and clean the house. He looked up at the attic trapdoor. He slid down the banister and skidded across the floor to grab his pistol. He ran back upstairs and lowered the ladder.
Slowly, carefully, Cub pushed the attic trapdoor open.
Cub wasn't sure how to describe what he saw. A zombie? Frankenstein's monster? She was beautiful, yes. Far prettier than any woman he'd ever seen. She had long orange hair flowing down her back in loose waves. She stared him down with intelligent lime-green eyes, glimmering slightly with life Cub hadn't expected. Her skin was an ashen grey-green. She wore a dark blue dress with intricate gold embroidery. She sat, still and poised, in an armchair, blinking when Cub pointed the pistol at her.
"Don't move or I'll shoot," he warned, fully climbing the ladder and keeping the aim on her as he surveyed the rest of the room.
She said nothing but didn't move either. Cub looked around. There was a large stretcher in the middle, a blanket neatly folded at its foot. He assumed the thing slept there. Around it were desks and shelves, covered with journals, papers, and tools. He opened a journal with his free hand, flipping through the pages. Holy shit. This was—this research, this knowledge—this was incredible. Cub would need to spend more time here. He would also have to do something about the...thing. He retreated back down the ladder with a warning glance at the creature. He swore she rolled her eyes. He closed and locked the trapdoor with a small shudder. He started to put the pistol back and froze.
The trapdoor had been unlocked when he'd opened it.