I Woke Up in the Marvel Universe, But All the Heroes Are Women?-Chapter 60: Eye’m Something of a Scientist Myself

The metal cuts into my wrists like ice, cold and unforgiving. I tug at the chain again, watching the links stretch taut before snapping back, mocking my weakness. Just enough slack to reach the toilet. Norma's twisted idea of mercy.
I curl my legs against my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I rock slightly on this unfamiliar bed. My prison. My punishment for playing superhero in a world where monsters wear human faces.
How long has it been since she left? Hours? Days? Time blurs when you're trapped underwater with no windows, no sunlight, nothing but the constant hum of machinery and your own thoughts eating you alive. I only know I fell asleep once since she spent those endless hours violating me, her hands exploring my body like it was her property.
Every inch of me feels dirty, used, contaminated. I've scrubbed my skin raw in that tiny shower stall, but nothing washes away the feeling of her touch, the memory of her voice whispering those terrible things in my ear. My body betrayed me completely, responding to her despite my mind screaming in protest. The incubus powers that once felt like a gift now seem like the cruelest curse.
I press my forehead against my knees, trying to block out the memories, but they flash behind my closed eyelids like a horror movie I can't turn off. Her hands. Her mouth. The things she did to me.
I've tried teleporting a hundred times, focusing on spots around the room, then further, the corridor outside, the surface, anywhere but here. But the fucking chain anchors me in place, preventing the golden energy from fully forming.
The worst part isn't the captivity or even the memories of what Norma did. It's the emptiness stretching ahead. There's literally nothing to do except sit and wait for her to return. Wait for her to use me again. The anticipation is almost worse than the act itself.
A metallic groan echoes through the chamber, startling me from my stupor. The massive circular door at the far end begins to turn, its heavy mechanisms grinding against each other like teeth. My heart slams against my ribs as I scramble backward on the bed, pressing myself against the wall, desperate to put as much distance as possible between myself and whoever's coming through that door.
Norma steps into the room, auburn hair perfectly styled despite the humidity down here. She balances a tray in one hand, a bundle of clothing tucked under her arm. Her lips curl into that predatory smile that makes my skin crawl.
"Good morning," she says cheerfully, as if we're old friends meeting for brunch instead of captor and captive in an underwater prison.
I stare at her, jaw clenched so tight I can feel my teeth grinding. My silence hangs between us, the only rebellion I have left.
Her smile falters, a flash of annoyance crossing her features.
"Good morning, Shane!" she snaps, her voice hardening to steel.
"Is it morning?" I finally mutter.
"Does it matter?" she asks, moving across the room with that predatory grace that makes my stomach turn.
She settles beside me on the bed, her eyes raking up and down my exposed body. I resist the urge to cover myself, refusing to show more vulnerability than she's already forced from me.
"I brought you something," she says, placing the bundle of clothing beside her. "Can't have you catching cold down here."
I glance at the pants and shirt, then at the chain binding my wrists. "Not like I can put those on with these," I say, rattling the metal links between us.
Her lips curl into that smile that haunts my nightmares. "First things first. Eat something," she says, her voice taking on a disturbing maternal tone. "I'll help you dress afterward."
She places the tray between us on the bed. Steam rises from what appears to be a gourmet meal, roasted chicken with vegetables arranged artfully beside it, a small dessert in a separate section. My stomach growls traitorously at the sight.
I reach for the fork, my fingers just grazing the metal before she snatches it away.
"Uh-uh-uh," she tuts, holding it just beyond my reach. "You'd just try to stab me with it."
"Can you blame me?" I mutter, eyeing the utensil that could easily become a weapon in desperate hands.
"I could, yes." She spears a piece of chicken, the fork glinting under the harsh lights. "See? No poison," she says, taking a deliberate bite. Her eyes never leave mine as she chews, then swallows. "Your turn."
She extends the fork toward me, loaded with another morsel. My pride screams to refuse, but my empty stomach overrules it. I lean forward and accept the food, a bitter chuckle escaping me as I chew.
"Doesn't your little goblin serum make you impervious to poison anyway?" I ask after swallowing. "The demonstration seems unnecessary."
Surprise flashes in her eyes, as she loads the fork again. "So you know about the goblin serum?" she asks, feeding me another bite. "Not many people do."
I sigh, leaning back against the wall. The food is undeniably delicious, which somehow makes this whole situation even more perverse.
"Don't worry," she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know all about your 'prophetic dreams.'" The air quotes are audible in her tone, dripping with skepticism.
"You were listening in the hospital," I realize, my stomach turning at the thought. She'd been spying on us, on my friends, all along.
"Very good," she smiles, pressing another forkful of food between my lips. "Such a smart boy."
I sigh heavily, the weight of my situation pressing down on me like the ocean above. The food turns to ash in my mouth despite its perfect preparation.
"What's wrong?" she asks, loading the fork again with mechanical precision.
I say nothing, just stare at a spot on the wall behind her. What's the point? She doesn't care how I feel beyond her twisted game.
Her eyes flash with sudden annoyance, green irises darkening like storm clouds. "I said, what's wrong, honey?"
I physically recoil at the pet name, my back pressing harder against the cold metal wall. "I'm kidnapped," I snap, my voice breaking with raw emotion. "Everything's wrong."
She tilts her head, studying me like I'm some fascinating specimen under a microscope. The fork hovers between us, forgotten for the moment.
"Was the sex with me not good enough?" she asks, her voice dropping to a husky whisper as she leans closer. Her mouth is inches from mine, her breath warm against my lips. Without the pheromones coursing through my system, without the desperate arousal my powers had forced upon me, her proximity just feels invasive and gross.
"You were unlike anyone I've ever been with before, Shane," she continues, her lips almost brushing mine as she speaks. "So responsive, so... Electric."
I turn my face away, looking down as she presses the fork against my closed lips again. After a moment's resistance, I open my mouth mechanically, accepting the food like a prisoner accepting their sentence. What choice do I have? Starve myself to death before anyone finds me?
After a few more mechanical bites, Norma finally sets the fork down on the tray and places it on the floor beside the bed. A strange silence stretches between us as she reaches into her pocket, extracting a small silver key that catches the harsh fluorescent light.
"Come on," she says with that clinical detachment that somehow feels worse than her false tenderness. "Let's get these clothes on you."
My pulse quickens as she leans toward me, the key sliding into the lock on my cuffs. The metal releases with a soft click that sounds impossibly loud in the confined space. The chains fall away from my wrists, leaving behind angry red marks where they've chafed my skin raw.
For a heartbeat, we're frozen in this moment. But something's wrong. Or rather, something's right. She isn't touching me. Her fingers hover millimeters from my skin, but there's no contact, nothing to anchor me in place.
Our eyes meet, and I see the exact moment she realizes her mistake.
I don't hesitate. My gaze snaps toward the open circular door, focusing with laser precision on the space just beyond it. Golden energy surges through me, molecules scattering as reality bends.
In an instant, I'm free, materializing just outside the chamber. My bare feet slap against the cold metal floor as I sprint down the corridor, heart hammering against my ribs. I'm completely naked, but I couldn't care less, all that matters is putting distance between me and that monster.
"SHANE!" Norma's voice echoes behind me, rage transforming it into something barely human. "GET BACK HERE NOW!"
The corridor opens into a junction, metal walls curving in every direction. It really is an underwater facility, pressure gauges line the walls, pipes running along the ceiling, everything designed to withstand the crushing weight of the ocean. There are no windows, no glimpses of the outside world, just an endless maze of identical metal passages.
I choose a direction at random, my bare feet freezing against the floor as I sprint into teleport after teleport.
"YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME!" Her voice bounces off the metal walls. "THIS ENTIRE FACILITY IS LOCKED DOWN!"
I round another corner and find myself facing three identical corridors. Panic claws at my throat as I choose the middle path, teleporting ahead to gain distance. The golden flash illuminates the dark passage for a split second before I'm running again, the familiar warmth spreading through my lower body with each jump.
Behind me, I hear Norma skid around the corner, her breathing barely elevated despite the chase. "I SEE YOU, SHANE!"
I teleport again, hoping to find some kind of exit, some path to freedom. As I reappear my heart plummets. I've hit a dead end. The narrow corridor terminates in a solid wall of pipes twisting in every direction, hissing with steam and whatever other fluids run through this underwater prison.
"Fuck," I mutter, spinning around to find another escape route.
My blood runs cold. Norma stands at the other end of the hallway, her silhouette blocking the only way out. The corridor is so narrow I can barely see anything past her imposing figure where it turns. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting eerie shadows across her face as she raises her hand.
"Got you, Shane," she purrs, and the light glints off something metallic in her grip, the fork from our twisted meal. She twirls it between her fingers like a tiny trident, a grotesque parody of domesticity turned weapon.
I press my back against the pipes, feeling their vibration through my bare skin. The walls seem to close in around me, my naked body completely vulnerable. My options are nonexistent, except for one desperate gamble.
I focus on the space just to her immediate left, gathering what little concentration I can muster. Golden energy surges through me as I dissolve into light, reappearing exactly where I aimed.
For one glorious second, I think I've made it past her. Freedom is just beyond, somewhere in this labyrinthine facility…
But Norma is faster than I anticipated. She pivots with inhuman speed, launching herself sideways. Her body slams into mine with crushing force, knocking the wind from my lungs as we crash to the floor. The cold metal bites into my skin as she pins me beneath her, her laughter echoing off the walls like broken glass.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?" she cackles, her entire body shaking with cruel mirth. Her knee digs into my sternum, making it impossible to breathe properly.
I struggle beneath her, twisting my body desperately, but she's impossibly strong.
"Since last night, you're all I've been thinking about, Shane," she whispers, her voice dropping to an intimate murmur that makes my skin crawl. Her free hand caresses my face, fingertips tracing the contours of my cheek with disturbing tenderness.
The fork hovers in her other hand, suspended above my face. I can't tear my eyes away from it. Terrified by what it may do to me.
"You and I can have something beautiful together," she continues, her thumb brushing across my lower lip. "Something special."
I remain silent, my chest heaving with panicked breaths beneath her weight. Every instinct screams at me to teleport, to escape, but she's pressed against me, skin to skin, anchoring me in place.
Her face transforms in an instant, the mask of tenderness shattering to reveal something monstrous beneath. Her eyes bulge, veins throbbing at her temples as she leans down until our noses almost touch.
"BUT ONLY IF YOU STOP FUCKING AROUND!" she screams, her voice an inhuman shriek that reverberates through the metal corridor. Flecks of spittle spray across my face, hot and wet against my skin. The sudden explosion of rage is so violent, so raw that I flinch beneath her.
This isn't just anger, it's something primal, something broken. Then, like a switch being flipped, the rage vanishes. Her features smooth out, that disturbing maternal smile returning as she wipes her saliva from my cheek with gentle strokes.
"You're just scared, right?" she asks softly, her head tilted in mock concern. "That's all this is?"
I nod frantically, desperate to placate her, to prevent another eruption. My terror isn't feigned. It pulses through me with each thundering heartbeat, turning my limbs to water.
"I'm sorry, honey," she croons, her fingers moving to stroke beneath my right eye. The touch is feather-light, almost reverent as she traces the socket. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
Her thumb presses against my lower eyelid, pulling it down slightly as she studies the eye with scientific fascination. "You need these eyes to teleport, right?" she asks, her voice clinically curious. "That's how it works?"
I don't answer. Can't answer. My vocal cords feel frozen with panic as her face looms above mine, those green eyes boring into me with terrifying intensity.
Her thumb presses harder into the soft flesh beneath my eye, and I can't stop my body from trembling. There's something in her expression, a hunger that transcends lust.
"You have such beautiful eyes," she whispers, her voice honey-sweet but laced with poison. "So expressive. So full of fear right now."
She leans down slowly, deliberately, her lips pressing against mine in a kiss that feels like ice against my skin. I remain perfectly still, lips sealed tight, not responding in the slightest.
When she pulls back, her expression has shifted again. The softness is gone, replaced by something calculating as she studies my unresponsive face. She takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring slightly, and for a fleeting moment, I think she's finally calming down.
The fork flashes again in the fluorescent light.
There's a split second, a heartbeat of realization, before blinding, white-hot agony explodes through my skull. The metal prongs punch through the delicate tissue of my right eye with a sickening wet sound. My vision fractures, half of the world instantly going dark as something hot and viscous runs down my cheek.
"YOU MADE ME DO THIS, SHANE!" she shrieks, her face contorted into something barely human as she twists the fork deeper. "I DIDN'T WANT TO!"
The pain is beyond comprehension, beyond language, beyond sanity. It's a supernova of agony that obliterates all thought, all hope, all sense of self. My scream tears through my throat like broken glass, primal and raw, echoing off the metal walls of this underwater hell.
I can't breathe. I can't think. There is only pain, endless, all-consuming pain as my body convulses beneath her. My hands claw uselessly at her wrist, trying to stop her from driving the fork deeper and twisting it, but she's too strong, always too strong.