Young Reaper

Feeding crystal to a killer doberman

(Charming, California)

A little over a year ago, SAMCRO held home for their youngest prospect to ever join the motorcycle club. The fifteen year old kid who always held this goofy smirk and glittering brown leaning heavily against black eyes. Short curly raven coloured hair stiled to keep back the bangs from covering up his eyes, his facial features sharp but yet so gentle. He was the son of SAMCROs' Sergeant-at-Arms. His name Jake J. Trager, son of Alexander a.k.a Tig Trager and Colleen Trager. He was his fathers pride and joy, his one and only son.

Unlike his two sisters, Jake never left Charming as his dream since birth had been to follow his fathers footsteps and join SAMCRO. He was born and raised by the Sons', his father always taking the young boy with him when heading to the TM.

The day of his twelfth birthday, Jake was permitted to ride his fathers motorcycle solo. As the state of California didn't permit anyone under the age of eighteen to get a license, Jake had to do with borrowing his fathers bike once in a while. The moment the motorcycle started rolling, the young boy was hooked and from there on a motorcycle was always on top of his birthday lists.

There never went a day without the young boy visiting the Teller-Morrow auto-shop, where he either helped out with the repairing of the cars or just hung around to waste time. He loved cars almost as much as he loved motorcycles but only almost, motorcycles would always have this special place in his gentle heart. But he loved to spend time with the members of SAMCRO, loved how they always put aside some time to play and teach him about all kinds of stuff. It was almost as if the boy had one father and eight uncles who watched his back, not to forget grandma Gemma who always took him out for icecream and brought him snacks.

He was never alone, always surrounded by his huge family. Surrounded by the people he loved the most. Even thought his father was away doing some club-related business which Jake knew were actually illegal stuff, he knew so as no one of the SAMCRO members had cared much about keeping quiet around the young boy. Jake always felt proud of it, proud that his uncles trusted him enough to let him hear about the 'grown-up' part of the club.

But that's also what got him in a really bad situation.

At the age of fifteen, Jake J. Trager had been granted a place in the club. Sure he would have to start out as a prospect but that was mostly because of his age, he'd spent enough time with SAMCRO for them to know where his loyalty stood. His father had been real proud of him and Jake swore he saw a tear fall from his old mans eyes, not that he mentioned it.

It had been a day of celebration filled with great booze and several willing croweaters, not that Jake took any interest in the horny ladies several years older then himself. No the fifteen year old found more interest in the ring where Happy and Jakes' father were having a go at each other, all fist and mo mercy. To sum it up, the night had been awesome and one of those hard to forget. Surely one which would never leave the mind of Tig Trager.

It was during the early morning after the celebration, everyone were nursing their hangovers in their own private rooms and some lied sprawled allover the clubroom. Jake who'd taken up the sofa was woken up by the loud snoring coming from across the room, at opening his eyes he searched for the sorce of the piglike snoring and they fell on Bobby Munson. No surprise there. He knew it would be most likely no use in going back to sleep, his tired eyes this time shifting to look at the clock positioned above the door to the church. He still had time before the first bell, had been a while since he last went to school to catch up with his friends.

So he pushed himself of the sofa, did his best to straighten his all to big tee before he stuffed his hands down his jean pockets and headed out the door. Even though early morning, it was rather wamr outside and Jake was slightly pleased he had left his jacket back at the TM. He would have turned into a melted snowman with that thing on.

He headed downtown in the direction of his school when his eyes fell on a suspicious looking black 1996 chevrolet, one of those black vans you see on TV when they either kill people from of kidnap them. Well as Jakes' dark eyes met with the drivers, he knew he would be the victim of one of the options.

MISSING

Jake J. Trager

Age: 15

Eyes: Black

Hair: Black

Height: 5'8''

Weight: 141 lbs