1) The document introduces Ciaran Naomhan, a troubled teen in Scotland whose father died in a mining accident. He gets into frequent fights at school. 2) As a teen, Ciaran enjoys the adrenaline from confrontations and running away. One night, he intervenes when bullies assault a waitress. He is arrested but his grandfather sends him to live with relatives in Boston. 3) In Boston, Ciaran gets a job but continues risky nighttime activities like parkour. One night, he witnesses a violent altercation between two inhuman creatures in a basement and kills one to save the other. He flees, disposing of evidence in a river.

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Ciaran Naomhan©
Born exactly nine months after the terrible Auchengeich Mining disaster that took his father’s life, the
date was June eighteenthnineteen-sixty. His mother, Ceana Naomhan, named him Ciaran, after his
father. She felt that because she could not give him his father’s surname, due to being unmarried, she
could at least honor him with his first.
Through his childhood, Ciaran was always getting into trouble at school. He would find most of the
classes and kids boring. Some of the kids would notice how much of a loner he was and attempted to
pick on him. Ciaran would never let anyone push him or his friends around. This only got worse in his
teens. At first he would try to fight his bullies, but as he we becoming more outnumbered, he would
take one or two down and then attempt to run away, the whole time he would be verbally taunting his
persecutors as they could never keep up with him.
Ciaran became to really enjoy the adrenaline rushes these altercations gave him, and the feelings of
freedom he would get after a good run.
Just before his seventeenth birth day, Ciaran was walking home from theater after just seeing his first
movie, Star Wars: A New Hope. He was cutting through a shopping center, when he noticed a group of
his school bullies being loud and eating outside a restaurant. Ciaran started to turn away, not wanting to
take a chance of ruining his good mood, when the red headed Friseal, the so called ring leader of the
group, reach under the skirt of a waitress, causing her to jump and spill her serving tray on Friseal.
This caused Ciaran and Friseal's friends to start laughing. Friseal jumped up, grasping the waitress's hand
with one fist, Friseal slapped her with other, knocking her to the ground.
"HEY Strawberry!!!" Ciaran yelled as he was monkey vaulting over the little hip high outdoor wall that
separated the diners from rest of the center. Landing, Ciaran turned his forward momentum into a roll
under an empty table, grabbing the first thing he spotted, the waitress's serving tray from the ground.
Ciaran came up swinging, hitting Friseal just under the chin, breaking the tray in half and knocking
Friseal backwards onto a table, overturning it and spilling the food into the laps of Friseals friends.
Standing over Friseal, Ciaran first looked at the broken tray in his hands, then down at Friseal, the group,
the other people around and lastly down at the poor waitress. Everyone was startled or awed, it all
happened in less than three seconds... The faces of the group and Friseal started to turn red. Ciaran
threw the remaining half of the tray down at Friseals groin and ran for the opposite wall, speed vaulting
it, not looking back for several minutes as he ran through crowd.
By the time Ciaran made it home, the police were already there. His grandfather was furious, his mother
dismayed as the police arrested him. The next day in court, the waitress and an officer read several of
the witness statements to the judge on how Ciaran was just defending her from the group of boys. The
judge, after looking over Ciaran's record, was worried about reprisals.

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Ciaran's grandfather stood and told the judge that if he would release the boy, he would send Ciaran off
to the States to live with his relatives. So he spent his seventeenthbirthday, in the air, flying to Boston,
to live with his grandfather’s brother, Onchu.
On the way to Onchu's home, from the airport, Onchu looked over at Ciaran and said, "You’re a man
now and I won’t be having the troubles you gave my brother and niece, your mother. You act up here,
and I will just put you out and let the world deal with you." His great uncle would continue over the next
5-min about his house rules and that he expected Ciaran to get a job.
Ciaran actually had it easy, he could come and go as he pleased and he even managed to get a loading
job at a nearby warehouse. His great uncle was even proud of him from time to time. His uncle, as we
continue to call him, as it was easier to say than “Great Uncle”, would be even happier if Ciaran would
just give up one thing and it was not even the fighting matches.
"I don't see what the problem, it's not like I am hurting anyone." Ciaran told his uncle, as they sat down
at the table for dinner. "You have no problem with the fight club, and it’s just as dangerous.”
Onchu response was, "Because with the fight club, when you win or lose, is all legal and you have
witnesses. So if something goes wrong, you have help. Doing those exercise or whatever you want to
call it, at the rail yards, warehouses and or empty factories, is going to get you killed one of these
nights!”
"It’s just running" Ciaran replied, trying to make his uncle less stressed about it.
"Ha! Running you call it, that’s like saying Barry Pederson is just an Ice Skater. You forget where I work
kid and I have seen you on those roofs. I am not sure what you call it, but doing all those jumps, turns
and what ever's across those beams is not just "Running"." His uncle exclaimed. "Besides I am the one
who would have to call your mother if something happened. And speaking of that, when you going to
find yourself a girl! Staying out all hours of the night alone, is not going to help you with that. Why do
you not talk with some of the boys at the club, or let me. I am sure they got sisters, friends...."
"Oh not this again, you're getting worse than mom." Ciaran interrupted, "I only joined that club, because
you asked me. Which I am glad I did, because I am learning more from them, than on my own. But other
than the fights, most of them bore me. I don't know what it is, some of them just talk too much, or they
are all trying to prove they are the better man."
"Ok, ok, ok, I will drop it for now. But, just to make sure... You do like girl’s right?" His uncle said with a
grin.
"Oh come on" Ciaran replied, as his face went red.
"You're the one who took me to that house for my twenty-first, and you know perfectly well they don't
charge me when I go back. Unlike you!" he said as he got up from the table to start cleaning the dishes.

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"Kids these days, no respect for their elders! Get me another beer before you start that and I have to
beat you!" Onchu said jokingly, while chuckling and returned to the sports page, mumbling something
about "we won seven to zero".
Ciaran smiles as he thinks back, remembering those nights with Onchu and was grateful his uncle did not
know everything about his night runs, as he looks over the edge of the building he was now on, gauging
this distance.
Turning away from the ledge, Ciaran walks back to ladder, counting his paces in his head. Shrugging his
shoulders, he thinks to himself, "it's only a five story drop...” Stopping, turning and launching from the
ball of right foot, he grins as sprints towards the ledge, leaping into a straight jump...”One, Two, O Shi..."
landing on the balls of his feet and continuing forward into PK roll, then rising back to his feet. He
walked back to the new ledge, looking over the twelve foot gap, back to building he was at six foot up.
"Well, I guess I should get this over with." he thinks with a smile, moving over to roof door. Taking off his
cap, he slips the visor under the lip of the trap door, catching and releasing the latch, opening it.
Listening, he quietly moves onto and down the ladder, cautiously lowering the door behind him, closing
it.
Stepping lightly off the ladder and on to the floor of the janitorial closet, he moves to the door. Stopping
to listen for several minutes, he slowly turns the knob,opening and peeking out through the crack to
make sure the hall was still empty as it should be.
He had been watching this place for over two months.He had come here many times for "Food Delivery"
for Mr. Johnson or Ms. Jones.Between them and the blueprints from the VP office, he knew all four
floors and every entrance and exit, and that included the sewer hole in the basement. He also knew the
last person always left before midnight and he had watched both guard and the manager leave to their
cars tonight, safely from the roof across the way. And lastly, he knew they left the deposits on Sundays
in the building, to be taken to the bank first thing on Monday mornings. And over several of his nightly
visits, he had even worked out where they were stashing it.
Moving stealthily out of the room, checking once to make sure the door locked behind him, he
continued listening to his surroundings as he moved quietly down to the second floor and out to the
show room. Moving between the racks of cloths, he finally made it to the lingerie department and the
dressing rooms.
Going into the second room on the left, he grasped the cloths hook tightly, giving it a slight push and
turning it, to hear a soft click come from the mirror on the back wall. Opening it, he had to grin to see
the camera looking right at him, and the three bulging deposit envelopes. Quickly opening them, two
were full of cash, the third with various credit and check receipts. Leaving the third, he dumped the first
two in his backpack, and replaced the envelope contents with one of the VHS tapes and polaroids he
swiped from the weekly day managers desk the night before. "It would be such a shame not to share
those, I sure hope everyone enjoys him in those pretty dresses." he thought.

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Returning everything to the way it was. He then moved down to the first floor security room. There he
double checked hidden compartment behind the cabinets, for the secondary and he was quite sure,
illegal VHS recorders of the dressing rooms. All the cables were still unplugged, but just in case, he took
all the primary and secondary tapes and replaced them with one more tape from the manager, along
with a couple with episodes of "Cheers", "Night Court" and even one tape of "Bosom Buddies" that he
was able to find, six tapes in all.
Heading to the back exit through the delivery area, Ciaran thought he heard voices coming from the
stairs below to the basement. Worried about possible witnesses, he decided to sneak down to make
sure it was no one.
Staying to the shadows, he climbed down the stairs, while listening for anything out of the ordinary.
When he got to the bottom, he peaked around the corner and saw two figures. They seemed to be
shoving each other and arguing lowly about the actions of a prince. Then the smaller of the two, hit the
second one, sending him flying over thirty feet across the room, crashing into and denting a steam pipe,
before falling face down to the floor, ten feet away from Ciaran.
The bigger one had long unkempt hair, but seemed to be in good shape, well-muscled. The smaller one
jumped out of the shadows across the room, landing on the long hairs back. It...It was not human, or it
was terribly deformed, it had yellowish skin, completely hairless looking, with a face that was cracked
and misshapen, its eyes long and seemed to be glowing red. It looked like a cross being the Elephant
Man and images of Gollum. It grabbed the tall one by the hair of the back its head, and started to slam it
into the ground repeatedly.
Ciaran grabbed the wooden arm of a mannequin from nearby, raising it back over his right shoulder, he
ran up to the freak, swinging with everything he had, hitting it across the its left eye and temple, sending
it backwards into the steam pipe. Ciaran keep swinging until it stopped moving. Up close, it stank, it
smelled like it came from the sewer.
Remembering the longer hair, Ciaran turned back to see if he was ok. Rolling him over, the face was
scratch up and bleeding, but its ears were slightly pointed. Ciaran checked for a heartbeat, there was
nothing. Going back to the freak, it too had no heartbeat.
Scarred to death that he just killed someone, and worried about being detected, Ciaran quickly put the
mannequin arm in the long hairs hand, thinking when the police found them, they would think they died
fighting each other. Then not wasting any more time, he ran back up the stairs and out the back door.
Not wanting risk anything coming back to him, Ciaran worked his way to the west side of Cambridge, to
the Riverside Press, the whole time thinking about the bodies. He did not mean to kill him, it… whatever
it was.
Hiding in the tree line along the Charles, he took out an empty plastic bag from his pants pocket, he then
removed the hockey mask from the top his head, along with the cap, dropping them all into the bag.
Then he continued with his stripping of everything else, putting it all in the bag, still leaving on his

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gloves. He took out the security tapes from the pack and placed them in the bag. Lastly he gathered a
bunch of the rocks into the bag.
Rolling the bag up as tightly as possible, to force the air out. He grabbed the top and waded out into the
Charles. Holding the bag under, he opened it a little, until he felt it being pulled down and no more air
seemed to come out. Tying it off, he poked one hole through the top with his thumb and pushed it out
into the deep.
Going back up to land, he removed the gloves, laying them down next to his backpack. Then taking yet
another rolled up black trash bag from the pack, this one holding set of new clothing, he proceeded
quickly get dressed in the white t-shirt, blue jeans, black socks and put down an oversized black cotton
hooded running jacket next to the pack, opposite side of the gloves. Taking a new pair of tennis shoes
out of his pack, he put them on, securely tying them to his feet.
Taking out the cash from the pack, he counted it, a little more than seven thousand. Putting all in
various pockets, and pulling his T-Shirt out to let it hang. He then took the backpack and checked it for
anything else, all the pockets were empty, except for the front one that held his seven piece Swiss Army
knife, which he also put in his pants pocket.
Picking up the gloves, he placed them into the backpack. Rolling the backpack up, he placed it in the now
empty trash bag. Lastly he picked up and put on his jacket and with trash bag in hand, started to walk
back towards Boston. He found a sewer drain about a hundred yards from the Riverside and threw the
bag down it.
What to do next, keep returning to his mind, his thoughts were in a constant war between the money
and the bodies. Finally making it home just as the sun was rising, he laid in his bed for what seemed like
forever, before he own exhaustion finally made him sleep.
He woke in sweats, his dreams for the last two weeks have been nothing but one nightmare after
another, since that night. Heknew he had nothing to worry about, he heard on the news that same day,
there was some type of gas explosion, and the store was completely burned down. No bodies were
found and no one was hurt.
He looked over at the clock, he had fallen asleep again, it was almost dinner time and he had to go pick
up his uncle from the yard before seven pm. Today was his twenty-fourth birthday and his uncle wanted
to take him down to the club house for a birthday drink.
Everything was fun and he drank way too much. Onchu and the guys from the club had got two girls
from Mistress Kel’s House to put on a strip show, and he got a private “showing” in the back room. It
was some time after one am, and his uncle was driving them home, while he stretched out in back seat,
trying not to lose what he had left in his stomach.
Something happened, the car was hit hard on the driver’s side, causing it flip over multiple times. Ciaran
must of past out, because he woke lying on the outside of the car, on the side of the street next to some
building. Still laying down, trying to focus to get his bearings, everything was a little blurry.

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Leaning up, he could make out the car and the dump truck that must have hit it. The car was the on the
passenger side, flat against the same building, being pinned by truck. He started to get up, with concern
about Onchu, when he heard some raspy voice say “Heads up!” and he was hit in the chest with
something.
Looking down in his lap, it was his uncle’s head and its mouth was stuffed with the gloves. Pushing the
head away, he tried too quickly stand up and had a hard time getting his balance. Holding onto the wall
with his left hand, he finally managed to get his feet under him and stand. He searched around for the
voice, but could see no one. But he started to get nauseous from the smell that must have come from a
nearby sewer hole.
Out of nowhere, something hit his legs from out beneath him, causing him to fall back to the ground.
Standing over him, with one foot to each side below his hips, was the freak!It was alive and covered in
dark reddish liquid, holding his uncles head by its hair with his right hand.
“So you like to get involved in issues where you do not belong? Well what do you think he would say
about your choice, hmm?” It said, raising Onchu’s head up to its ear. “What, nothing to say?” It laughed
a most hideous cackling sound, as it brought the head around to look into its eyes. “Well they say two
heads are better than one. So maybe next time you will think better with the help of your uncle.”
“Fuck you!” Ciaran vehemently responded, while grabbing and pulling both of the creature’s ankles,
trying to pull it down, and only ended up pull himself between its legs to the back of it. “Now I wish I did
kill you, you freak!” Ciaran then tried to roll towards the street, but was stopped by the creature
grabbing him by his chest and pulling him up. His feet dangling as it held him one handedly against the
building, Onchu’s head still in its other hand.
Its dark black eyes, with the whites glowing red, looked up into Ciarans eyes. Ciaran raised his knees as
hard as he could into its chin, but nothing happen. Ciaran tried kicking it and swing at it, hitting it with
everything he had, and it just stared up at him and started again with that hideous cackling laugh.
It raised and pulled back Onchu’s head, and Ciarancould only watch as his uncles head was about to be
bashed into his own. Ciaran, returning his own killing glare back at the creature. Then the last thing he
felt were his chest hairs being quickly pulled out and his clothes tearing, as the back of his head hit the
wall.
When Ciaran woke up again, he was between the thighs of a naked girl past out in his bed. She had
obvious bite marks on her thighs, and he had that familiar iron taste in his mouth. He licked the marks
and watched as the wounds closed.
All of sudden from all around outside the room, he heard people cheerfully shouting a count down from
ten to one, then several horns blowing with happy cries of “Happy New Year!!!”. He looked over at a
clock sitting on the table next to the bed to see it had reached midnight.

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Getting up, from the bed, he looked himself over, he was still fully dressed and everything seemed fine.
He walked over to the window and lifted the curtain slightly, making sure his guess was right, and seeing
no sun shining through the crack, he looked out to the crowd of people dancing and laughing out in the
motel parking lot.
He took a seat at a table. He tried to get his mind straight. He knew who and what he was and what that
meant, he even knew his clan. He knew what he could do and even some of the abilities of some of the
other so called clans.But… he could not remember where, who or how he got this knowledge. Well first
thing first, he had to figure out where he was and more importantly what year it was.
Ciaran got up and went back over to the girl.There was a cup with what smelled like beer in it on the
stand with the clock. He took it and poured it on the head of the girl. She woke slowly,looked up at him
and grinned, saying “Happy New Years?”
Ciaran smiled down at her, and replied “Yes, and just to make sure you have not drank too much, what
year would that be?”
She laughingly responded “two-thousand”.
Ciaran had lost sixteen years. He could not remember how he became what he was or where he was.
But now he knew, it was sixteen years since the death of his uncle, sixteen years since his life was
changed forever.
Ciaran just turned his back to the girl and walked right out the door.
Up until about a year ago, he has been wondering the country and even spending couple years visiting
his homeland of Scotland,as vagabond in the wind, honing his abilities and trying to find those sixteen
years.
The last year has been spent mostly in the city and state of New York. Rumors from the street had given
him pause, supposedly a group of humans who are hunting those like him, are targeting some secret
group. And this got him to thinking…
Maybe if he could find ether one, human or kindred, the humans could lead him to hopefully a member
of this group, or with any luck, he could avoid the humans altogether, and just put the word out that he
was looking for a new home.
Other than the couple unexpected confrontations with two different Nosferatu over the years, that did
not exactly give him time to ask questions, so far his search for his past have revealed nothing, but a
possible enemy. So with any luck, maybe new roots and new minds, he might have or get something
that could open new paths.