Captain Hook

By Roza Maria Kerim

Imagine being amnesiac and having only one friend. Pretty bleak, if you ask me. Now throw in wanting to adopt your arch nemesis, without either of you knowing about your true identities and trying to defeat an overpowered magician. Captain Hook is not having a great day. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookRix
• Release date: Aug 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9783755451143

Book preview

Chapter 1

Table of contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 1

The gossip next to my block says I'm a tormented man. What a load of rubbish! 

Their unwanted pity suffocates me, their judgment makes me incapable in their eyes! I don't know why they keep staring, haven't they seen a man with amnesia before? Probably not, especially the Hawking woman, who treats me like an exotic wild animal worthy of taming.

She wakes me up at the crack of dawn every day, knocks on my door and leaves me chocolate mint cookies. But she disappears as soon as I open the door, like an irritatingly benevolent ghost. In contempt I throw half of the cookies in the trash, the other half being too tempting to throw away.

Today, I stride into the living room, I recline on a coppery armchair, and open a book with my hook. The cover is red, expensive. It's an old, classic book.

As I read it, some awful screams from upstairs hiss loudly, thundering my eardrums.

Son of a gun! Again the kids on the third floor watching horror movies, I say mournfully.

Children should be seen, not heard, I mutter bitterly knowing full well I sound like a grumpy old man with a headache.

So what? I was grumpy! And the brats gave me headaches!

Seeing that there is no escape from the infernal screaming, I grab my cookies and book ,and stride towards the park.  It's a rainy day, my boots are soaking wet and it's freezing cold.

My teeth are chattering, but I'd rather freeze than stay home another minute.  So smart am I that I forget my umbrella and I'm not going back for fear of committing some more or less intentional arson

And I wouldn't stop until their TV turned to dust and ashes.

I'm not the kind of man who masks his words.  If someone is a walking buffoon, I will not keep my mouth shut. I don't see why I should sugarcoat my words. Maybe that's why the neighbors avoid me, but as we know, the truth hurts.

I reach the park, carefully skirting the pools of water with greenish tadpoles and golden-brown snails. I roll my eyes when I bump into a child staring at my cookies.

He's tall, looks about twelve, with brown hair and bright eyes the color of amber.  He wears old, shabby clothes. He smiles playfully at me, but I'm sure that's not a good sign.

Hello, says the rascal, his eyes fixed like a predator on the cookies in my hand.

I sigh deeply, I nod approvingly and ask him, Would you like a cookie?

The smile gets even wider, impossibly wide, and the boy says Oh dear! My parents would tell me I'm not allowed to take sweets from strangers.

Well, if you don't want it, I say falteringly trying to avoid him so I don't look him in the eye as I bite into my food.

Thank God I'm an orphan! the child says, and I hope he means it as a joke.

Suddenly, he lunges forward with force and takes the whole box from my hands, then takes it away screaming, Adults like you are as slow as a snail!  I bet you're seventy!

The fact that he steals my sweets does not bother me, but the insolence masked by the politeness with which he greets me shows a remarkable lack of manners.

I don't know what happened, my face probably turns red with anger, but I know for sure that my teeth were clenched and my blood pressure was enormously high.

 The mature move is to ignore the petty theft, or go straight to the police. In any other situation that's how I would have acted. But this kid, this brat is making me completely lose control. And so the cookies became just an excuse, because the real challenge is the eternal struggle between youth and old age.

The boy relies on tricks, cunning tricks indeed, but it is time to prove to him that even old greyhounds can learn new things. And so begins what at this