Official Title : Oungan Mankus.

Real Name : William Baptiste.

Other Alias : The Haitian.

Birthplace : Port Au Prince, Haitian

Age:43

Criminal Record: Utterly clean (Why have dogs in the yard and bark yourself)

William began life in Haiti, the son of a vudouist family that ran their own fairly well known ounfò, attracting a large following of local people. His mother and father were strong believers and followers of the Lwa, having a special affinity with the Gede family of spirits, those dealing with death and the afterlife. It was here, in his formative years that he learned also, to care for the ounfò and to revere the Lwa and the spirits of his ancestors.

Unfortunately, even though Vudou is considerd the formale religon in Haiti, those who follow christianity there try to intimidate, subvert and even kill Vouduists in an effor to destroy what the see as evil and "Bad Obeah" and thus, in his 19th year when returning home after a night out with "The boys" he found his home ablaze and his parents beaten and hacked to death. It was that night, that something changed inside him.

He had been running with "the boys" a small time criminal organization, often being used by larger criminal families to mule drugs, guns and gather information. As I said, things inside him changed. It was not enough. There was an inner fire raging now, a burning need for revenge and to become so feared, nobody would dare to ever harm those he cared about again.

He began to work on his own when not doing the bidding of the gangs, which he began to resent. Where and when possible, he would target christian worshippers in his quest to find which group had slain his family and destroyed his home. When the bodies started to appear, fear rippled through the community and that was when he realized....Fear was the ultimate weapon.

Fear...and oh how he used it. He honed it, refined it...cultivated it. He watch and listened to the communities and their fearful frenzy, watching them blame each other. He took in the details of who blamed who until....At least he found those responsible. The whispers of blame pointed him in one direction. He was meticulous. He heard the same whisper many times before he made his move on one dark and moonless night.

The butchery made the news, of course. Local priest and family slain, butchered in fact. The walls adorned with symbols painted in their blood, parts of them missing. It was big news. Big enough that the gangs took notice. His "Boys" knew it was him, everybody knew but nothing c ould be proven. They also knew the bigger gangs would be on the hunt as it had drawn heat down on them. They skimmed some money off of local businesses and helped him relocate to Jamaica.

It was here that he really bloomed.

He fell in with one of the larger and well known gangs. At first, tending to their guns as hs had in Haiti, then moving on to other enterprises as the head of the crime family quickly noted his worth. He earned the nickname "The Haitian" from them, as a mark of the respect he had earned. He undertook bigger tasks and his wrath against rivals of the family and what he did to them became widespread knowledge.As always, nothing could ever be linked to him directly.

The family he was part of rose higher and restructured. The Haitin thrived. He was placed in charge of terror cells. for nearly 20 years he refined his art, he grew powerful. The terror cells all answered to him directly and anyone he deemed a threat to the family, met a bloody and highly visible end. Of course, he was careful to never leave and direct links to himself, getting others to do a lot of the work or even setting rivals against each other and watching the aftermath. He was the brain behind the brutality.

Turf wars raged, power ebbed and flowed but his remained..until the head of his crime family feared he had become to powerful and a threat to him. It was time to remove the Haitian.

However, there were ears working for the Haitian even that far up the chain and with a tip off, he left Jamaica and found himself in America, the land of opportunity. He founded himself a small Vudou shop to cater to the needs of the faithful in a run down city in the south and eventually, he found Backwaters.

It was ideal for his purposes. He still had contacts in Haiti and Jamaica and perhaps, just perhaps...this town would serve as his new base of operations. Satisfied for now, he sat back to watch, explore and learn. Information at this stage, being power.