Captains of Vice - an original novel

Hello! This is an original novel that I am writing. It is mine, wholly mine and is not taken from any other source. If you read it please leave a comment bellow to give your opinion.

Section 1 - Captain Doubt

Chapter 1 - The mugging

A dark disturbing shape transformed itself into a figure. A shadow turned into a man. It was a man one would describe as a shadow. More shadow than man. A shadow of a man. In the shadow of shadows. The more light, the more shadow.

Hank focused on the shadow extending itself from the figure's feet in a dozen different directions. Each one a different length and a different shade as the street lights provided both adequate lighting yet not enough for Hank to see his face clearly under his hood.

"Your wallet! Now!"

Hank was startled out of his daydreaming as he was walking home from work thinking about the fateful words his girlfriend spoke to him at their last date which have haunted him every day since that date. It's not that it was bad news, on the contrary, it was a compliment. "I love that you're taller than me," she told him. Hank didn't think of himself as a tall guy, perhaps even a bit shorter than average, whatever that was. Was it that she was worried that he wasn't tall enough but thought that it was nice that at least he was taller than her? Maybe she was actually really into tall guys and was just tolerating him until someone taller came along. Could it be that she was not very tall and his friends would end up making fun of him behind his back for dating a short girl?

"What?" Hank replied weakly.

"Your wallet fuckface! You think I'm kidding?" The rough faced-man said in a voice slightly shrill with fear yet desperate with anger. "Try me fucker! Your wallet" he reiterated, gesturing forward with his switch blade which appeared to Hank out of nowhere.

"Ok! Ok!" Hank said reaching awkwardly into his pocket.

"I just hope it's enough" he said handing the wallet.

"What?" The man asked.

"I mean, what if it's not enough?-- I mean what if it's not enough then all this for nothing?"

"You think this is a joke? Give me your phone. Now!"

Reaching into his pocket "It's a new model." He was holding it out. "Maybe it has one of those security things. With a password."

"What's the password?"

"It's like four-g-m-e-n-zero-n -- like the Greek mythology hero but with numbers -- maybe it's too complicated"

"What the fuck?!"

"I don't know if it works. Maybe you can hack it. Maybe it's not that new and no one will want it -- here take my watch -- it's not worth much, Hank spoke hesitating almost to a stutter.

The man turned slightly and a flash of light lit it up. Hank could see it develop into a perplexed look as his mind processed the unfelt sensation of time passing uncontrollably as he thought. Someone might come along and block his escape route out of the alley.

"I mean I have credit cards, there's money, but I think I've almost reached the limit, I'm not sure -- I'll tell you my pin. Don't hurt me." Pity superposed fear as Hank started to notice the effect this was having on this would be thief. Yet the fear wouldn't leave, it was as if he saw but didn't.

The rugged man had already taken his phone and was holding it. He took one more look at Hank, uttered "Fucker!" dropped the phone and the wallet to the ground as if in failure. Failure not at being able to rob Hank. On the contrary, in his mind, he'd already robbed Hank, but he felt that he got nothing of value. Just a shitty watch, minor cash, canceled cards and mobile phone he couldn't sell. It was failure of having gotten booty from his victim.

He took off running. His form performed a dance of shadow and light as his form blended into lit up darkness.

Hank was in shock. He almost forgot his phone and wallet were lying on the slushy ground. He just watched the man run, turn the corner and disappear.

He thought about calling the police but doubted he could achieve anything. He had barely seen his face in the dark pathway so they wouldn't be able to catch him. Perhaps they would show him some pictures and maybe he'd pick someone and the wrong man would go to jail. He just. Or, knowing himself, he'd just be so unsure he'd spend hours trying to pick between one face or another and waste precious police time that could be used to solve other more pertinent crimes. He just couldn't make up his mind to do it.

He was ready to take off walking when he felt the emptiness in his pockets. Already having taken a step, he made a sudden stop turned and picked up his belongings.

He started walking staring at them in his hands in disbelief. How could it be that he just got stuck up at knife point and yet lost nothing. His wallet was a little wet, and his phone dropped to the ground and was wet but he knew was safe, after all he convinced himself to buy the more expensive model for the waterproofing and got that hideous military grade protective case that made his phone bulge out of his pocket like a brick and made his colleagues laugh at his brick-like choice in the day of super slick options.

As he walked and got to his apartment building in the older prestigious back streets of St. Clair which he figured were sure to keep him safe. But as he felt the smooth slick metal of the keyhole embrace his extra thick almost phallus-like key slide in, a thought came to mind. Perhaps because it's such a nice neighborhood that stick ups would be more common. Of course! Thieves would figure they'd get more booty off a guy or gal living in these parts than one down around the poor immigrant areas of Lansdowne.

He had microwave dinner as he always did as part of his evening routine when he didn't go out. No thinking required. He was not in the mood to think about food anyway. He'd just been mugged. Well, almost! But he was threatened with a knife... Well not a very big knife. But by a scruffy looking dude... Not such a big dude, though. He was maybe an inch shorter than Hank. Probably hungry too.

But he was nuts! Totally bonkers! Was that why he ran off? He couldn't picture his face, it was just a blurred shape. But that shrill voice. So desperate.

Maybe I should have stood up to him, Hank thought. Maybe I'm just a pussy. I could've taken him. But I probably would have fought like a pussy. I just don't have it in me.

He sat on his couch thinking about this.

The notification light was flashing on his phone. Hank couldn't be broken out of his chain of thoughts. The shock had hyper stimulated his thoughts.

He sat there staring at the shiny black screen looking into his reflection. Looking at his body thinking about whether he was scrawny and what people would think if he told them he almost got mugged.

Hours passed. It was already 11pm, Hank saw on his phone. He still ignored the flashing light. He couldn't take it anymore. He went to his medicine cabinet and took the Valium his family doctor prescribed but he could never get himself to take fearing he would develop an addiction.

He went to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water. Taking the plunge, he swallowed. Fear entered his overloaded his that he would become addicted. He ran to the bathroom took the bottle pill and tossed it out his third-floor window. "Oh no! What if I hit someone?" He looked down and saw no one. He closed the window stopping the cold air from entering.

His mind was racing and he realized it. He sat down on the sofa. His worrisome thoughts raced faster but became blurrier.

He was facing robber again. He was bigger. His voice boomed in his face. He begged him to take the little money he had, the broken phone and cartoon-face watch his parents had given him when he was 10.

The face got angrier. "You are worthless!" it spit out. Hank could literally see droplets of spit flying in his direction.

Hank could scream back, but what would be the point? He would just anger this face more.

He shrank until he became so small he could no longer see himself.

He couldn't escape. He closed his eyes and the thought sunk in deeper.

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