Jack Trapper Prologue

The mercenary known as Jack Trapper held his breath under the large boat, waiting for the perfect moment to strike one of his targets.

Sure enough, a pair of skinny white feet were kicking around the dirty yellow swamp water, so Trapper took out his knife and...

“AHH, F**K!” roared Dallas, who was one of Trapper’s targets.

Slamming his bleeding feet back onot the boat, Dallas rushed to find something to stop the bleeding, knocking over several beer cans in the process.

“What the f**k are you yelling at, Dallas?! You gonna attract predators with all yo yapping!” whispered Jason, accidentally spraying Dallas with spit.

“Jason...I think... there’s someone under our boat, Jason.” Dallas growled back, indicating where in the water his foot was cut. Jason snickered.

“Yeah, Dallas, them called crocodiles. I hear they eats people whole with one bite.” Said their companion Micheal, a smug look on his face.

“You dumbf*** crocodiles don't have metal teeth, and I know getting cut by metal. I'm telling yall, someone is under our boat!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dallas. The only one who could POSSIBLY survive under our boat for so long is...is...oh s***.” Jason thought for a second, then frowned.

“Uhh, Dallas?”

“Yeah?”

“We moving anyone today?”

“Uhh, just a few girls I think..., why?”

Jason looked at his shotgun, and he seemed to be debating something.

“Are the girls ON the boat?”

Just then, an older man, Micheal, walked out from below the deck.

“Funny, I just locked them in now, why you asking?”

Jason's face was drained of color almost immediately, and he stared at the barrel of his gun, pondering something.

"Uhh, whatcha doin, Jason?” Micheal whispered, slowly backing up. “Now hang on a second, Jason...Jason, no!”

Jason looked down the barrel and pulled the trigger. The remains of Jason’s head splattered across the boat, including on his comrade Dallas and in the shotgun itself.

After staring at the body for a few moments, the henchmen heard a noise from the bottom deck.

Now the other men, namely Micheal, Josh, and Addam were looking around in horror as if they didn’t want to be seen in the middle of the swamp on their boat.

“Uhh, Micheal, did you make sure to shut and lock the door?” asked Josh, who was hopping around the remains of Jason.

“Yes, I know I did.” Micheal replied, glaring at Josh.

“Uhh, Dallas, arm the others! Josh, go round the back, keep an eye out, Addam...”

“Addam won’t be joining us today.” Dallas freezed, listening for the energetically calm voice until he felt a soft tap on his shoulder.

Slowly drawing his gun with shaky hands, Dallas spun around and began shooting wildly, blowing apart the thin swamp trees and leaves.

“Die, motherf***er, DIE!” Dallas roared, his scream and the echoing shots scarring the wildlife instead of Trapper.

In one fluid motion, Trapper twisted the silver pistol from Dallas’s hand and smashed the grip into his throat.

In just as fluid a motion, Trapper grabbed the mag and slid it into his own pistol

“Ughh, aach!” Dallas choked, and a powerful uppercut later, and Dallas was out cold.

Trapper paused for a moment, listening.

“Still trying, huh?” he sighed.

A moment later, a wooden bat came crashing down onto Trapper’s head.

“I got him, I got him!” Josh yelled gleefully, until he got roundhoused in the upper neck.

Trapper appreciated the splash of water as Josh fell in. The bigger splash a second later, when Micheal fell off the boat too, was even more satisfying.

He didn’t even mind the warm blood it was mixed with. The bullet holes in Micheal’s chest and head made it worth it.

“Anyone else wanna try? Anyone? Oh, wait a minute.” Trapper grinned, looking around the bloodstained boat. “I killed you all already. New record!”

He paused for a moment, thinking. Someone had to be driving, and The Ring was known to be tricky.

Just to be safe, Trapper drew his own gun and silently moved towards the door.

“Should...should we go out there?” asked one of the captains, sounding concerned.

“Nah, we’ll be safe in here.” replied the co-captain, doubtfully.

“This is Trapper to Client, the boat is clear. Hang on.”

The captains overheard Trapper, and the bigger of the two, the co-captain began shooting at him.

Rolling in, Trapper slammed the co-captain into the wall. Before he could get up, Trapper shot him the same as he did Micheal, two to the chest, one to the head.

“Lightly crash the boat. Now.” Trapper ordered the captain, who was paralyzed with fear.

With a gun to the back of his head, the captain drove the boat into a thick patch of trees.

“You're gonna let me go now, right?”

“Uhh...no.”

Ironically, the captains never heard the refusal over the gunshot to his head.

Trapper casually pulled out his shiny red phone, tapping his foot impatiently as it ringed.

“Now it’s all clear. Freeing victims now. You have my money, right?”

“Yes, Trapper, I have your money.” sighed the man called Client, a bit annoyed. “I thought you did this because you hate them?”

“I do hate these creeps,” countered Trapper. “But the money makes it that much more worth it.”

Trapper opened a hatch to the bottom, and after making sure no more Ring henchmen were alive, searched the level.

Unimpressed by the fancy marble tables and flat-screen TVs, and unbothered by the strong smell of fish and moss, he found the room.

Shooting off the handle, Trapper kicked down the door and saw 10-15 girls huddled in a corner. The panic and fear was clear in their faces, their body language.

“Come on, girls. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just risked my life saving you, remember?”