The Following Contest is a Dark Match (The Following Contest series)

The Following Contest

is a

Dark Match

By Chris Shore

Published by Chris Shore at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Chris Shore

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Acknowledgments

-First to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ through who anything is possible.

-Next to my beautiful family, Ginger and the MARS kids. Thank you guys for not quitting on me when it got tough, and for acting like I was the greatest writer in the history of the world.

-To all the beta readers who took their time to read and edit my scribblings.

-And finally, to you, kind reader. Without you this is a vanity project. I hope that Kevin and the gang bring you as much pleasure as they do me.

CHAPTER ONE

The following contest is a dark match.

Kevin Davidson rolled his eyes and glanced back to PCW promoter Roy Evans. Roy, you didn't tell me you signed a TV deal. What is this, amateur ring announcer night?

Shut up Davidson, at least he'll do something in the main event tonight.

Kevin flipped Evans the finger. It didn't matter that Evans was the promoter of Piedmont Championship Wrestling and giving him a chance, there was no reason to be a prick. Especially on a botch like this. Dark matches only occurred at televised events. And they were a long way from being televised.

Yeah, whatever. Listen to me kid. Do not try that move.

Magic Carpet Ride boomed out of the too large speakers. Kevin waved off Evans as the ring announcer continued. Coming to the ring first, from Winston-Salem, NC. He weighs 237 pounds. He is the 'Mystic Warrior' Kevin Davidson!

I mean it, Kevin. It's too dangerous.

Kevin tossed one final nasty glance back at Evans and slid through the curtain on his knees. The forty fans in attendance at the Mocksville National Guard Armory mostly clapped. A few cheered. Maybe only half stood up. But it was exhilarating for Kevin. This was why he did it. A cheering crowd was his drug of choice. He didn't care if it was eight or eighty. Sliding through that curtain and hearing the reaction was reason enough.

He popped to his feet and held the staff he carried above his head to garner more cheers. As the babyface* in the next match, his job was to make the fans cheer for him. Kevin had switched to the Mystic Warrior gimmick after a trip to Jamaica the year before with Julie. It was there she had bought him the staff. It was a black, hand-carved, walking stick she had probably paid too much for in some little shop. But it had sparked his idea for the character. He thought it was one of his better ideas, and was working hard at it. If he could get over* with this act, he thought he might get a look from one of the bigger independent promotions outside of North Carolina.

Kevin looked up at the staff and the fight from that morning raced across his mind. They had both said things they didn't mean. Julie had asked him to quit wrestling. She said her father had a job waiting for him at the family bank; all he had to do was go interview. A formality really.

Except he didn't want someone giving him a job he didn't deserve. He had his business degree, but he had never used it other than to think of ways to market himself to other promotions. Wrestling was what he wanted to do. It was the life he wanted for Julie and himself. She came from old money. He wanted to be from new money. His money.

But more than that, it was his dream. She had known that from the first night they met. Had been to every show he had ever wrestled since then.

Until tonight. She wasn't there tonight.

Kevin pushed the thought out of his head and ran the ten feet to the ring. He slid under the bottom rope on his belly and rolled up into a kneeling position. He held the staff above his head again as his music cut out. Kevin shook his head. Amateurs everywhere, he thought.

Heavy grunge music filled the void left by Kevin's music and the ring announcer began again. And coming out next. He breaks the scale. He is Two-Ton Tony! Tony King, the man behind the Two-Ton Tony character, ripped through the black curtain and screamed in the face of the closest fan. The fan yelled back and they exchanged a spittle laced argument that not even they understood. Indy wrestling at its finest.

As a heel*, Tony made quite the first impression. He wore an all-black spandex shirt and tights that held his considerable girth in check. He had several tattoos, and it looked like he hadn't shaved in a decade. And nobody could look crazier than Tony.

Kevin suppressed a smile. Away from the ring, Tony was the quietest and nicest person Kevin had ever met. He had a pretty and sweet wife, and a two-year old little boy that was his whole world. He may have been a huge monster to wrestling fans, but to his son he was a big teddy bear.

Tony pointed at Kevin and growled. He stormed up the makeshift wooden stairs at the side of the ring and climbed over the second rope. He charged at Kevin, who was still kneeling in the ring, with both hands clasped above his head like a giant, meat sledgehammer. Kevin dropped to his side and scissored Tony's legs with his own. Tony tipped forward and slammed his face into the padded turnbuckle on the middle rope. Kevin leapt to his feet and held the staff aloft again as the fans cheered. The opening spot was perfect.

Kevin set his staff in the opposite corner and watched Tony sell* the drop toe hold. Kevin had worked* with Tony many times in the local wrestling circuit that existed in the Piedmont and Charlotte areas of North Carolina. Selling a move was an art form all to itself, and nobody sold like Tony. He always made whoever he was working with that night look good.

Kevin needed to look good tonight. Kevin had borrowed a friend's high end digital camera and had it setup and recording. That meant he would have a good quality tape to send to the bigger promotions. Bigger promotions had more dates and paid more for those dates. Once he made those companies, WWE and the big contracts were just a short step away. Then Julie would be able to quit her actuary job and he could give her the life she deserved. Wrestling was the key to a good life for them. He wasn't going to make that kind of money with his business degree.

Kevin pushed Julie from his mind as the referee called out, Ring the bell. Kevin and Tony had been given five minutes to get the crowd excited for the rest of the matches. Some guys found it insulting to go on first; it wasn't called curtain jerking out of love. But Kevin had always felt that if you weren't going on last you should go on first. Opening and closing matches were the ones fans remembered most, and the opening match set the bar for every match after it. It was an important position to wrestle in. At least that's what Kevin told himself as he watched the guys in the last match take home more money than the guys in the first.

Tony stood up and shook off the effects of hitting the turnbuckle. An eight-year old boy sat in the front row, pointing and laughing. Tony growled and swiped at the kid from the ring. The boy burst into tears and leaped into his mother's arms. She responded by yelling profanities at Tony; he really was a great heel.

Kevin yelled, Hey, at Tony and waved him forward. Tony cast one final glance at the kid and then he and Kevin circled each other in the ring. Now came time for Kevin's second favorite moment, the first lockup. Wrestling matches could start any number of ways, but Kevin still loved the traditional collar and elbow. Both guys would grab each other's shoulders and put their heads together. It allowed them to communicate without being seen, and it was a great visual. Kevin had grown up thinking you could do anything to a man from that position.

Kevin and Tony had already worked out their opening sequence backstage, so as soon as their heads were together Kevin whispered, You ready?

Yep, Tony said under his breath. Go.

Kevin slipped his head under Tony's right arm but grabbed the wrist and twisted it in an ugly looking, but totally painless, position. He kicked Tony in his stomach, just barely making contact and allowing the padding of his boot to take the brunt of the force. He let go of the arm and grabbed a side-headlock. Tony wrapped his arm around Kevin's waist and walked them back to the ropes. He leaned into the ropes for leverage, and shoved Kevin forward.

Kevin dropped the headlock and ran to the opposite side. He used the spring in the ropes to propel back. Tony stuck his arm out and swung. Kevin ducked the clothesline attempt and hit the ropes again. He charged back and ducked another clothesline. He hit the ropes a third time and leaped into the air, turning his body sideways.

The idea was to do a cross body block where he would tackle Tony into a pinning position. But he didn't jump high enough, so Tony had to lunge forward to catch him. He crashed into Tony's knees and thighs, as opposed to the chest, and they fell down. Kevin ended up backwards on Tony, but the ref counted a pin attempt to try and save the moment. Tony kicked out and Kevin sat in the middle of the ring, head between his legs. He had been practicing every day, but for some reason he was struggling to be crisp in the ring. And every mistake he made pushed the big contracts further away. That made him think about Julie again. The feelings overwhelmed him and he made a rash decision.

They locked up again and Tony called the next move. Side-headlock take down. Even though they had walked through the match a few hours earlier, Tony called their spots just to make sure they were both on the same page. Kevin performed the move and leaned down, letting his long hair cover his face so no one could see them talking. Put the moonsault back. Kevin pretended to squeeze harder and Tony slapped the mat.

Roy said no.

Don't care. It's in.

No. Get up. My turn on the ropes.

Both men stood and Tony backed into the ropes again. This time they waited for the ref to demand Kevin let go of the headlock. Kevin slowly released it, and Tony punched him. He hit two more and whipped Kevin to the ropes. Kevin bounced off and their shoulders collided. He threw himself to the mat, taking the brunt of the fall across his back, and keeping his head up to protect it, allowed the give in the ring to cushion as much of the fall as possible. Bumps never felt good, but Kevin was used to them.

Tony smirked to the crowd and ran to the ropes. Kevin flipped on his belly in front of Tony. The big man easily jumped over him, but when Kevin made his feet and tried to leap frog Tony, he once again didn't jump high enough and nearly took Tony's head off with his leg. Tony was forced on his back and Kevin rolled to the side. Tony rolled on his side facing Kevin and said, Cover me. Kevin scurried over and once again tried to pin Tony. When Tony kicked out, Kevin grabbed another side head lock as the crowd murmured its disproval.

What the hell is wrong with you, Kev? Tony whispered

I'm in my head. Put the spot in. I can do it.

Not if you're like this.

Damn it Tony. I need this. I can do that move

Tony sighed. Don't screw up. Let's go. Up.

Both men stood again with Kevin holding Tony's head. Tony wrapped his arms around Kevin's waist and lifted straight up before falling backward. Kevin sold the move, and Tony spent the next three minutes slamming Kevin all over the ring and playing to the crowd. Finally the ref gave them the signal to end the match. He leaned in as if to check on them and said, Go home, boys.

Tony slammed Kevin near the