William "Shaitan" Halloran

"Well you can dig me up a grave
And try and stick me in the ground
Well you can tie me to the bed
And try and beat me half to death
But you can never keep me down

Well you can stick me in a hole
And you can pray all day for rain
You can shoot me in the leg
Just to try to make me beg
And you can leave me there for days

And I'll stay alive
Just to follow you home"


Nature:      Penitent   Demeanor:      Loner     Willpower:



Strength:   5    Charisma:   3    Perception:   4
Dexterity:   3    Manipulation:   2    Intelligence:   3
Stamina:   4    Appearance   1    Wits:   2


Alertness:   3 Animal Ken:   0 Academics:   0
Athletics:   3 Crafts:   2 Computer:   0
Brawl:   3 Drive:   0   Finance:   0
Dodge:   1 Etiquette:   1   Investigation:   2
Empathy:   2 Firearms:   0 Law:   1
Expression:   0 Melee:   1 Linguistics:   1
Intimidation:   5   Performance:   3 Medicine:   0
Leadership:   0   Security:   1 Occult:   0
Streetwise:   2 Stealth:   0 Politics:   0
Subterfuge:   1 Survival:   0 Science:   0


Allies:   2   Contacts:   3      Contacts:   2
  Resources:   2           


   Awareness:  3              


Merits Flaws
  Huge Size      Addiction: Alcohol

Allies: His two allies are Eric Cruse, the promoter for New York City Wrestling, and Jason Lader, the owner of the Dolphin, where he bounces. Both men count William among their friends, and would gladly help him out if he was in a jam.

Contacts: William has a couple of contacts within the prison system and one on the street, all three being men that he protected while in prison. The one on the street is a petty con artist who gets around; the one of the men in prison is doing a life sentence for killing a police officer while high on crack cocaine. The other man in prison was imprisoned on drug trafficking charges, and is scheduled to get out in a year.

Fame: William is pretty well known among the wrestling fans in his Shaitan persona. He’s considered one of the top “big men” in the independent federations and is starting to attract the attention of the big leagues, and even had an offer from a well-known hardcore promotion last year, but he turned them down because they wanted to capitalize on his prison record.
Resources: Gained from both his wrestling career and his bouncing at the Dolphin.

2 dots Perception, 2 dots Intimidation, and 3 dots Awareness due to pack with Ouestucati

Merits & Flaws
Huge Size: William suffers from macrosomia, a hyperpituitary dysfunction better known as giantism. He is enormous in size because of it.

Addiction (Alcohol): Alcohol runs in William’s family, and he has fallen prey to it as well. It hasn’t affected his careers yet, but if he’s not careful, it will soon.

Disfigured: The baseball bat William took to the face from his father crushed his cheekbone. As he was headed to prison at the time, he was never able to get it properly reconstructed. He also suffered some cosmetic damage to his right eye, though he can see out of it near 100%.

Big and scary. Those are the two best words to describe the man standing there. Standing a touch over seven feet tall, and easily weighing over 400 pounds, the man pretty much defines the saying “I wouldn’t want to meet HIM in a dark alley!” His hair, a dark brown, is just a little too long to be considered short, and is worn combed straight back, revealing his face...and that’s not a good thing. The right side of his face is distorted and misshapen, looking somewhat caved in at the cheekbone, as if from an old wound. The eye above is perpetually bloodshot, though the original green reflected in the other eye struggles to show through. He’s dressed in a T-Shirt advertising New York City Wrestling, a huge pair of blue jeans, and size 17 boots. His gaze is surprisingly gentle for someone as intimidating as he is, and the look he gives off indicates...loneliness, perhaps? ((Fame 2: Check Who's Who for Details))

William carries no weapons on his person, nor does he own any, in accordance to his parole. He is unable to legally own, purchase, or carry a firearm, and he doesn’t plan to.

His wrestling gear
An apartment above the Dolphin, which he catches a break on thanks to his friendship with Jason (see allies)
Cell Phone

William Halloran was born to be a professional wrestler. That’s what he tolls people, anyway, and looking at him, it’s hard to deny it. Born to a lower-class family in the Bronx, William was intimidating from an early age. He was diagnosed with macrosomia, better known as giantism. His father, Jacob, was a dock worker. He had “the gene,” as it were...a proud Irish man, with a love for alcohol. William’s size was difficult for Jacob to accept, and doctor’s bills put a financial strain on the fairly destitute family. Jacob’s frustrations turned to anger when alcohol addled his mind, and he verbally and physically abused his son in many of his drunken stupors. He also beat his wife, Emma, when she tried to intervene for William’s protection.

While his size made William a natural for sports, at which he excelled, it also left him isolated. Being six feet tall in 6th grade tends to give you a reputation for being intimidating, and William became a target for fear and scorn. Kids tried to prove how tough they were by picking fights with them. However, William didn’t want to fight...he saw enough of that at home. Much to the contrary, William reacted by cowering and trying to shield himself from his father’s blows, even though it was thirteen-year-olds who were attacking him. This further enhanced his poor reputation, and by high school, he was almost universally reviled and picked on.

Then, one day, everything changed. It was the day of William’s high school graduation. Jacob’s father was nowhere to be seen as his son graduated near the top of his class; his mother was there, though, clapping proudly, and for William, that was enough. He now stood at an unbelievable 6’11” and 330 pounds, and he was only 18 years old. He had kept himself in good shape through workout regimens, designed to keep his immense body healthy and to let him work off any of the day-to-day frustrations and angers he had to endure. He leaned down, accepting his diploma from a principal who shrunk away from him, and ignored the boos and catcalls from his fellow students as he walked off the stage. Emma was so proud of him. She took him out for dinner, and then they went home.

Looking back, William would later tell investigators that he should have known something was wrong when all the lights were off in the house, save the one in his father’s office. Still, Jacob sometimes left the light on accidentally, so he had shrugged it off. They walked into the house, and William was met with a baseball bat to the face. His father reeked of whiskey, and he stood over his son, yelling in a slurred voice that a piece o’ paper meant nothing, that he was still a freak. William felt agony pulsing through his right cheek, and couldn’t see out of that eye. He looked up as Jacob, his father, raised the bat high above his head...and swung it sideways as Emma came in, trying to stop him. The bat struck her right temple, and she went limp. Jacob called her a filthy whore, that William was no son of his, so it must have been someone else’s. He raised the bat again.

It never came down. Jacob turned around to see his son, disfigured by the blow he took, holding the bat. The giant’s one good eye was hazed over with rage. Everything went black.

When William came to, he was in a hospital bed, in police custody. The investigators told William that his mother was in a coma, and his father was dead from massive blunt trauma to the head. They believed William had done both. William tried to protest, but the police weren’t willing to listen.

At the trial, William’s attorneys tried to plead temporary insanity, that a lifetime of physical abuse by Jacob Halloran caused his son to snap. Unfortunately, the courts were getting tired of this defense, and with Emma still in a coma and thus unable to support the story, William was sent to Attica state prison, guilty of Manslaughter in the First Degree, sentenced to 8-10 years.

William was terrified during his first couple of months in prison. As non-violent as he was, he knew he would be brutalized by the inmates, just as he was by his classmates and his father. Amazingly, though, he was never touched. His reputation spread over what he did to his father (and supposedly, his mother as well), and combined with his size and fairly horrific appearance from the disfiguring blow he suffered, no one really wanted to mess with the crazy giant. William realized this when people started coming to him, asking for protection. For once, his enormous size was an advantage. Still, he never resorted to physical violence, merely using intimidation to keep those who flocked to his side safe. He became one of the more well-known personas in the prison, known as “Shaitan” after a name given to him by one of his more erudite allies. The name meant ‘devil,” and was both appropriate and ironic. Regardless of the reason, it stuck.

William did his time, gaining parole in 1998 after six years. After a year of meeting with his parole officer and working in the kitchen of a diner in the Bronx, William set out on his own. Washing dishes wasn’t paying the bills, so he found a job bouncing at a bar in Harlem. It was both a blessing and a curse for him. While he was making good money and unknowingly finding his way toward his true path, he also met his greatest adversary yet—alcohol. William had tried his hardest to stay away from liquor, blaming it for his father’s behavior. However, the stress of his job led him to start drinking occasionally to take the edge off after a shift, and his father’s genetic predisposition toward alcoholism took root in the giant man. He was also sunk further into his depression (and the bottle) due to the fact that his mother had not yet come out of her coma (and has not to this day).

After two months of bouncing, William had a fateful encounter at the door. Eric Cruse, a promoter for New York Championship Wrestling, came into the bar. Eric had the opportunity to watch William keep the peace, and was very impressed. He came up to William and immediately offered him a job. William was amazed, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He had already used his size to an advantage in prison and in getting his job at the bar...why not use it to even more heights? He agreed, and began training with Cruse.

William spent a year in training, learning the ins and outs of the professional wrestling business. He and Eric became good friends, and Eric was amazed by William’s story. He decided to book William in his promotion as Shaitan, an unstoppable heel (wrestling term for bad guy) with a supernatural gimmick. William would come down to the ring in a large wooden mask, carved to resemble some Babylonian demon. He teamed with a more experienced big man, who went by the ring name of Samael, as the Fallen, led by their manager/valet, the beautiful and wicked Lillith.

William has now been wrestling in NYCW for five years, and is a multi-time tag team champion. Though he is well-liked backstage, he tends to stay to himself. Word is, larger promotions are looking the Fallen’s way, and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that. He will soon find out, however, God willing.