The New World Bites

An inauspicious beginning

Brady has led a hard life, and he’s hated every minute of it. His parents are both farmers and paid Brady no mind growing up, leaving him to do what he wanted, when he wanted. He was not friendly, did not play well with others, and learned at an early age that if you want something, take it.

As a teenager, he joined with a group of other delinquents and started robbing shops around Rotherhithe, London. Brady was good thief, especially at picking locks and nicking coin off of passerby’s. He and his crew had only been caught once after doing scores of jobs. That success led to more brazen activity on Brady’s part. He started pocketing more than his share, and when he got caught, argued and fought that he deserved more because he did more. His crew were becoming less and less patient with his activities.

It was one morning, around 3am, that Brady’s life got even worse than it had already been. They were robbing a local apothecary and Brady found the shop owners private stash behind a false board in the wall. When one of his fellows caught sight of what he was doing, he attacked Brady and a vicious fight ensued. Brady soon got the upper hand and was about to put an end to this bastard once and for all. As he wrapped his hands around his throat, his face suddenly erupted into pain. His opponent had grabbed a bottle and smashed it on Brady’s head. As the liquid splashed into his eyes, a burning agony erupted in his brain.

As the acid slowly ate away at his pupils, Brady turned and ran, the sounds of threats and jeers following him into the night. They were giving chase, ready to end Brady’s treachery and greed for good. Brady ran in a panic. The docks were near the shop, so he made haste towards a ship to hide in.

Horror engulfed him as he realized that even though the dawn was approaching, his vision was getting darker. He charged up the first plank he came to, belonging to large three-masted ship. He jumped into the hold and found a shadowy corner to hide in. His tears would not accompany his sobs. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. Blindness had overtaken him. As he stared unseeing at the barrel he was hiding behind, he would never be able to read the words that adorned it’s lid.

The Mayflower.