The Hero is Born "Life is cruel." This is rumoured to be the saying of the ghostly Captain Davy Jones. Of course no one ever know this for a meeting with Captain Jones is a meeting with Death itself. But his saying does goes along well with the life of the young man Braden Cutty. Braden's mother died at childbirth and his father left him to find work in America. He was left in the shipyards of Bristol working as an apprentice to a gunsmith and his hoity-toity wife. He was self-educated in the ways of a pistol and musket but he never fired one. He worked from the cold, early mornings to the late, foggy nights. Life seemed as miserable as the gloomy English countryside. Braden knew he would end up like the old gunsmith and have a horrid wife and be perfectly unhappy. But day a simple letter changed all that. The postman handed Braden a packet one May afternoon. In it was five shillings and a letter which said: My Dearest Son, I have made ourselves a nice home here in Cuba. Please use this money to buy passage to sail here. I am eight miles away from Havana and there is thick swamps so you might want to hire a guide when you get there. Be safe my son and fair winds. Your loving father Jacob Cutty A month later he was halfway across the Alantic. His life was already starting to get better. The food was good and the ladies abored the ship started to take notice of him. The captain of the small sloop started to notice him too and kept him under his wing as he showed him how to sail without being put down to the bottom of the sea. Braden's life was as bright as the sun that beamed over noon sky. Or so he thought. By sunset a black flag was spotted eight points of the starbord bow. Panic broke out. Women and children were placed under the decks for saftey and all men were given weapons. The captain gave Braden a pistol and whispered, "Good luck, my boy. I hope to sail with you again." "The same to you sir!" mumbled Braden, frozen with fear. The sloop was heavily armed and also quick but she was not able to out fight the foreboding frigate with her cannons. Soon the pirates boared her and a skrimish erupted on the main deck. Braden, to afraid to fight, sprinted down to his cabin. He hid under his bunk and waited for his doom. Shots rang out above him. The death rattles of terrifed men filled the air. It is defiently the end for me, thought Braden through tears. Suddenly the distictive thud of footsteps was heard outside his cabin. Braden readied his pistol and readied himself for the fight of his life. The door open with a loud creak and a young man strolled in. "Alright get out!" said the pirate meancinly, "No use hiding from the dreaded Captain Fear!" Captain Fear? thought Braden, The most wickedest pirate that sails the seas? The man who would maroon his own mother for a pitcher of rum? Blimey, he's young! And so he was. He the same height as Braden and not quite as muscular. He was clearly built for swiftness. His face was hidden under his large, black hat with a single white plume. He held sickly blood-red daggers in both hands. Braden gave a small, sad sigh and charged at him, not willing to die a coward. It was a gruesome fight. The young captain slashed at Braden while he countered him with a few punches to the gut and face. After sending all his strength into it, Braden knocked down the pirate to the floor with his knife and hat flying out of reach. What Braden then saw gave him the most fright of all. Young Captain Fear looked just like him. Same dirty brown hair. Same sharp nose. Same everything. Fear did not take noticeo of this yet. He reached for his pistol but before he could Braden insticvily remembered his and shot him in the chest. Fear became pale and limp as all the blood rushed out of the wound. He was dead. Footsteps then followed the shot Braden took. "Oi mates! I think Fear's been shot!" said the voice of a weary pirate. He had to think quickly. It was then his desinty changed forever. He grabbed Fear's hat and overcoat readied to meet the pirate crew. "Oh captain, my captain!" said a tall, lean pirate sarcastically, "Stars be praised! He's alive!" Braden nodded dumbly and muttered "Aye." "Who is this poor sod?" he said as he gestured to the corpse. Thankfully, Braden had time to turn him face down. "Some cabin boy," he said quickly. "Ah well I see he kept you busy. All we had to worried about was the rest of the ship to worry about!" "Quiet, Peyton!" said a giant African man who appeared at the cabin door, "Captain, all the cargo is on the ship. What should we do with the passengers and crew? Save them for ransom?" "No!" shrieked Braden, "Uh, just let them be." "Sir?" said the African. "Do as I say!" The crew looked as if they had seen their death unfold in front of them. "Beg parodon sir," said the African quitely,"Do we have a heading? The men want to spen their loot at port. Where to?" "Uh...Havana." The pirates were shocked and confused. No pirate went to Havana, the jewel to the Spanish colonies. Large ranks of naval ships and Spanish garrisons inhabited the streets. Still if the pirates feared this they feared their captain more. They may their way back to the ship. As Braden bored the pirate ship he looked over at the crew of the sloop. The captain looked disgusted at him. Guilt crept into Braden's soul but there was nothing he could do. He was now the famed and notorious Captain Fear.