Shot in the Dark: The Black Racer vs. Holly Matheson [debut match]

Holly's opponent was mercifully silent, as she came bearing down on him with the clothesline! Holly hadn't wanted to hear his mocking laugh, his taunting. She only wanted to rally, to prove that she wasn't some weak little Brit that he could just pummel and take out with ease. The Racer didn't seem too concerned with winning, but that wasn't stopping him from putting a beating down on her, tonight. Now, with her fans cheering her on, Holly was all set to show that she could bring the pain, too!

Except that she didn't. Rushing the ropes, Holly's extended arm swung wide, meeting with absolutely nothing as her body hit the ropes. The Racer had ducked the British Bombshell, leaving her body dangling humiliatingly over the ropes! "NOOO!" Holly cried out, eyes widening in shock as her body went tumbling over the rope. Her sensitive chest dragged across the rope as the Racer pulled it down, and Holly's momentum carried her the rest of the way over!

In a panic, Holly's hand just barely managed to catch the top rope and keep herself from tumbling down to the floor below. Twisting in mid-air, Holly's boots landed on the ring apron. Clutching the ropes for dear life, a wide-eyed and dismayed Holly tried to re-balance herself on the ropes. Looking back into the ring, Holly realized that her opponent had a golden opportunity, and that it could end in tragedy, if she couldn't get herself back in a position to fight!

The Black Racer was glad that he was able to duck down it time, watching as Holly went over the ropes at full speed. She'd never be able to take control after a fall in her state. But somehow, the girl managed to hang on to the ropes before she could hit the floor. "Oh good one Holly, I did not see that coming!" he said genuinely surprised Holly could hang on at all. This was still a perfect time to capitalize on the situation the girl was in, though. And this racer knew just what to do.

So as Holly hung on for dear life, trying to get to her feet, The Black Racer was prepared to finish her off. Getting into a quick running stance, he'd start sprinting towards the other ropes."Ready or not..." he said running and bouncing off the ropes for even more speed. "Here I COME!" he yelled as he continued running at the girl. Attempting a lightning fast spear that would put her down once and for all.

Holly was panting, struggling to keep herself under control, but somehow she'd managed to spare herself from a tumble down to ringside! "Okay, okay," she gasped, "it's under control, I have this!" Holly turned her face back toward the ring, however, just in time to see the Black Racer hurling himself forward, ready to hit her square in the belly with a running spear!

"Aaaarrghh!" Holly screamed, as The Black Racer's shoulder struck her hard, right in the belly! Holly deflated, air pushed completely out of her body as the British Bombshell fell helplessly down to ringside! The British Bombshell's back arched in agony, chest thrust forward, after her spine made hard impact with the barricade. "N-no~" Holly whimpered, falling to her knees as her eyes rolling back in her head. She could feel her consciousness fading, everything going black, the pain too much for the British Bombshell to bear. Large, tear-brimmed eyes fluttering shut, Holly fell to the floor.

"One! Two!" The ref started, beginning a count-out. Holly's fans started a cheer, some pounding the barricade, trying to rouse the buxom Bombshell back to life. "Three! Four!" Flat on the floor, arms and legs spread eagle, Holly showed no signs of life. Just once, with a body-rocking convulsion of pain. "Five! Six!"

The Black Racer connected with Holly's stomach, hard. Sending both of them flying out of the ring. Skidding off the ground somewhat, the racer laid on his back for a second. "Ok... that hurt..." he said, but as he looked over at Holly, he realized she got the worst of it.

She was falling to her knees as he looked over. With one look he knew he had sent Holly so far that her back actually hit the barricade, and the barricade won. "Ow god I killed Holly" was all he could say, and while it sounded like a joke, he honestly thought that. But as she convulsed a bit, he realized she was just very, very hurt. Or did people convulse when they where dead? Now in deep thought, he suddenly realized the ref counting.

"Oh shit... eight!?" It was really only six, but the thought of a double count out for his debut scared him to death. Getting to his feet, the racer dove towards the ring to grab the ropes. Struggling to make his arms lift his body, he pulled himself up with all of his strength. And after getting a leg up, he succeeded in rolling himself into the ring. "Tell me when Holly gets up here, I don't want to get surprise pummeled...." he rambled, unsure if he was actually talking in his daze.

Holly lay still and silent, posh face buried in the dirty arena floor. The ref count continued, as the Racer moved swiftly back into the ring. The cheers of Holly's fans began to grow more and more silent, as the count continued and the British Bombshell still failed to make any effort to rise and answer it. The Racer's hard spear to her belly had been devastating, his speed and precision would have been enough to finish her off in the ring. The fact that it was powerful enough to knock her into the barricade, however, was what put it over the top. That was where the line was, where it was simply too much for Holly's body to take.

"Nine!"

Holly was motionless on the mat, as the last of her fans gave up the ghost. The only motion coming from the fallen Bombshell were a few quick twitches, unconscious muscle spasms that caused her curvy bum to jiggle lightly. Once, twice. Barely a sign of life, and certainly not enough of one to get her back into the ring. The match was over. Holly was finished.

"TEN!"

With that, Holly's fate was officially sealed. Holly wasn't registering a thing, as the announcer declared her opponent the victor, and his music blared through the arena in celebration. Eventually, AFW would send staff down to collect her body, while she "napped" on the floor. Backstage, the British Bombshell would be heartbroken to learn how completely she'd lost, tonight. More heartbreaking, however, would be the number of fans cheering on her defeat. The British Bombshell had come out talking a big game, tonight, and she certainly wasn't talking, now. Both theatrical and athletic, The Black Racer had come out of seemingly nowhere, and won his very first AFW match in decisive fashion. And he'd done it over Holly's beaten body.

The Black Racer was surprised when the ref counted to ten. He had thought that Holly would never let it end like this. Which was stupid of him he thought since she hit her back off a barricade. That usually did it. So as the ref declared him the victor, the racer was a bit silent. But as his new fans were continuing to cheer wildly, he decided this felt pretty good.

Jumping up into the corner, the racer would throw his fists up in excitement, shouting "Yeeeaahh! WOO HOO! AMERICA!" He wasn't actually American, but it just seemed like the right thing to scream, he was just so excited. Jumping backwards, he flipped off the turnbuckle and onto his feet. He was pumped, he had done what he set out to do. And now he could find his next opponent, maybe even a rival who can go against his beliefs and fight him to the very end! Or one who after some disagreement in a fight becomes......

"Oh god I think I made Holly my first rival" the racer would say, hoping that the girl could just shrug this off, and go her own way. Yeah she wouldn't hold a grudge, but then again he did kinda beat her badly, and after that big speech of hers. Well he'd burn the bridge when he got to it, deciding to take a final moment to soak in the attention. So after a few moment, he felt it was time to end this celebration. Putting his hand in the air, he started counting down with his fingers. 5...4...3...2...1!

The lights cut out instantly after one, with a voice booming in the background. "I think I'm gonna like it here...Hahahaha!" the voice cutting off as the lights returned. Leaving only the ref in the ring.

The Black Racer WINS by ten count.