Stake
NAME: Huxley Bones
AGE: Unknown
EYE COLOR: Red
HAIR COLOR: Purple
OCCUPATION: Gambler, Bookie
PLACE OF BIRTH: Gila Bend, AZ
POWERS:
- Vampirism - cursed to be an undead, supernatural creature that relies on blood for sustenance.
- Blood Rage - a state of vicious bloodlust during which the vampire rapidly regenerates any and all sustained wounds.
Huxley Bones lived in a trailer park on the outskirts of the Platinum Mesa Casino. It was called the 'Diamond of the Desert,' and it attracted very wealthy clientele. While high rollers passing through the Southwest gambled away fortunes, Huxley was scrounging in the shadow of all that glitz and glam. Whatever earnings he garnered from petty street crime were spent exclusively at the casino. Never on the champagne, the caviar, or any of those 'finer luxuries' in life -- Huxley just wanted a piece of the action.
Bones was not his real surname -- it was a moniker he got at the craps tables. Regulars always saw him with a pair of dice in hand, ready to 'roll the bones.' Some days he was up, other days he was down, but patrons never saw Huxley cash out. Again, it wasn't about making money for him, he just reveled in the thrill of putting it on the line. That quality piqued the interest of a mysterious stranger who stepped foot in the Platinum Mesa one night. She was tall, dressed head-to-toe in black, and was a vision in the moonlight. She invited Huxley to a private game in her room, and he, pegging her as someone with deep pockets, gladly accepted.
The two traded hands back and forth in poker. Huxley had never met a player as stone-faced as he was. The night went on and on in a stalemate until eventually, the woman offered a final wager. If she won the next hand, she'd take Huxley's blood, and if he won, she'd give him a taste of hers. The offer perplexed Huxley -- it sounded like some really kinky shit. She explained that partaking in her ichor was a gift. It would grant him everlasting life and power beyond his wildest imagination. He just had to put everything on the line for a chance at it. He immediately did.
Huxley won the hand with just an ace high, a brazen bluff that the woman found particularly endearing. Using a fine cutlery knife that came courtesy of room service, she sliced open her palm and filled a champagne flute with her blood. After ingesting only a drop, the night sputtered into a blur for Huxley. He awoke days later in a sweat -- completely changed. His skin pale, eyes red, and throat parched by the thirst. He was a vampire.
In the years after his transformation, Huxley bounced from one seedy gambling den to another. In Las Vegas, his 'reputation' wound up painting a target on his head. Not from the usual suspects, but because a description of a stone-faced, pale-skinned individual cleaning people out on the Strip attracted hunters of his kind. Hooded assailants came after him in an alley after one lucrative night at Caesar's Palace. The would-be Helsings struck him through the chest with a long wooden stake, but failed to pierce his heart. An animal rage overtook Huxley as he removed the weapon, snapped it in two, and massacred the cadre of vigilantes. That rumored encounter made Huxley known as Stake in the supernatural underworld -- and he carries the splintered wood with him as a reminder of the vendetta held against his kind. It turns out constantly being hunted is the ultimate game of chance.
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