The Alleyway

I stood, facing, what’s said to be one of the eeriest of the alleyways anyone’d ever hear of. People would not mention it or if ever they did, they’d speak of it only in hushed whispers. ‘One Way Alley’, they called it. Half of the guys never came out of it. And of the guys who did come out, they had gone too crazy to say anything.

From what and how much of it I could see, I was impressed. The Alleyway definitely lived up to its reputation. It ran straight between monstrous abandoned factories that glared coldly at the road with their invisible eyes. It then halted for a crossroad, only to run again, this time into the ominous darkness where the dark sky met the black gravel. The roadside itself was bare. Only the arms of bulldozers, barely visible, terrifyingly quiet and seemingly vigilant, hanged over and outside the walls enclosing the forsaken factories. I shuddered.

But I guess, today I had to take the path. My scooter, of all the places, had to break down here and my job was a ****ing affair (without the pleasures, of course). Cursing my ‘boss’, I stepped forward…well, almost.

A dog (or was it a wolf?) howled somewhere. The shriek was filled with agony, terror and anger, all at the same time. It scared me. Only that I didn’t want the alleyway to know that. ‘You wanna scare me, huh? YOU WANNA SCARE ME? I’ll show you how scared I am!’ I shouted out loud looking in the dark depths of the alley and unzipped my pants and peed then and there. ‘IN – YOUR – FACE! HA! You -’

But I was cut short as again a dog howled. Though this time it was joined by another dog, and then another. And more beasts continued to join in the chorus, without ceasing for a moment. The howls resonated with their echoes and rent through the atmosphere with an unbearable intensity. I went down on my knees, with my palms pressed deep into my ears. ‘Aargh! Stop it! STOP-IT!’ Almost involuntarily, I crawled into the alleyway, with my hands still on my ears and my knees rubbing against the hard gravel; believing that somehow, doing so would make these horrible shrieks die down.

And indeed, as soon as I crawled myself between the two colorless walls, there was silence. A silence so abrupt and stubborn that it outright defied the pandemonium that preceded before it. No, there wasn’t even any rustling of leaves or the sound of a gust of air whooshing past. Just ubiquitous silence that hugged the darkness and sandwiched everything else within.

I wasn’t particularly sure what unnerved me more, the howls or this silence. For a fleeting moment, I genuinely considered retreating the way I came but then shivered at boss’ reaction. And also, something at the back of my mind told me I couldn’t return even if I wanted to.

Brushing the dust off my black suit, I looked at the watch. 8:45….Man, I’m dead…gigolos are supposed to be on time!

I took out the small flashlight I always carried and scurried forward. For five or so minutes I walked and saw nothing and heard nothing. Anyways, I could only see a few meters with the flashlight. But still there were no cats, no owls, no bulldozers darting towards me, no madman warning me to get out of the alley. Yes, there was a scull painted on the wall with spots of red paint all around it. Pathetic attempt at terrifying, I thought. I would have laughed but I did not want to disturb the silence.

Suddenly some hurried footfalls and its echo shattered the silence. I looked straight ahead for the source of sound. It was pretty dark. Amidst the overwhelming stillness, there was some frantic movement. I thought I could see someone running away.

I could do with some company, I thought. ‘Hey! HEY!’ I shouted. No reaction. The figure continued to run. ‘HEYY’! I shouted a little louder. It did not stop. ‘HEYYY’! It still continued to run. ‘GO –TO–HELL!’

It stopped and stood there rooted for a second or two. And then everything happened very quickly. There was this insane flash where the figure stood and suddenly it was bathing in light. I saw, disappointedly, that the figure had no curves. He was standing on the second crossroad from where I was with his back towards me. Then, less than a second later there was the sound of a horn. But before he could move, a truck came at ridiculous speed from his right and hit him, sending him flying down the sloping roadside outside my visibility.

What the… I began to run but stopped short almost immediately. A few feet ahead on the roadside was a yellow sign board that read ‘GO SLOW!’ It shone, it glittered. Wonder how did I not see it before. But now that I had, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It was as if the board compelled me to stare at it. Its edges were stained red and the message itself was covered in dust. ‘GO SLOW’ …the words spun in front of my eyes.

Am I going mad? I wondered. And then I remembered the accident. I began running again, shoving the words out of my mind. I reached the spot of the accident. Just ahead of the crossroad, the muddy roadside sloped downwards to meet the wall of another abandoned factory. That is where, I was sure, the accident guy should have been. But he wasn’t. I rubbed my eyes and stepped on the wayside. ‘Hey, anyone there?’ No response. I looked towards the lane from which the truck came. Pitch Black. I looked where the truck went. Pitch Black.

‘Hey!’ No response again. And then the silence caught me completely unawares. Deathly still…dark…silent…as if nothing happened. As if there had never been a guy, no truck, no accident. Just me and it.

‘Was I hallucinating?’ I hoped I was. ‘Anyways the guy’s outside my help zone.’ I hoped he was. I just wanted to get out of the darned place ASAP. I went straight on, quicker this time, almost running. I moved the flashlight quickly…straight, left, right. No one, nothing. And yet something bugged me. The bobbly circle of light continued to dance from place to place as I moved the light. The lane looked uncannily similar. Then, I saw it. A huge skull…on the wall…with red spots all about. I concentrated my eyes to look straight. Yes, there a few meters ahead something yellow shone in the darkness. I ran till I reached the board and could read what was written on it - ‘GO SLOW’…covered in dust and possessing the same magnetic property.

I recoiled in horror. I had stopped running but the echoes and the footfalls hadn’t. Straight ahead, someone was moving very quickly. I stood there, rooted to the spot, hoping that I would not see what I knew I would. A few seconds later there was momentary silence. Then…a huge flash of light and a horn. In the flash of light, there stood the same guy. A truck came, hit the guy and disappeared beyond the periphery of my vision.

I shrieked and shrieked till my throat dried out and I couldn’t shout any more. After a few moments of madness, I calmed down a little. ‘Get a grip..don’t freak yourself out!’ I told myself. And then I ran, ran back the way I came like a madman.

I began panting wildly but continued to run for god knows how long till I eventually lost my balance and fell down hard. The flashlight slipped out of my hands and rolled to and fro casting its light onto the right wall, onto a skull.

Silence..

Still lying on the road, I heard footfalls…again! I realized I had begun to sob.

‘No…please, no!’

A flash of light…

‘Pleeease..’

A Horn

‘NOOOOO!’


This time I didn’t even bother getting up. What’s the use anyways? I felt lost, hopeless. The darkness had finally engulfed me. I just lay there as if devoid of all senses. Time passed by, it might have been an epoch or an hour that I lay there. I could hear the watch ticking. On and on it went, rhythmically. It finally took the footfalls to bring me back to my senses. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the flash of light. And then the sound of horn pierced the stillness. And then a slight thud.

As I lay there, my eyes fell on my watch. It was just over 8:46. Surely, I had been in the cursed alleyway for more than a couple of minutes. The watch ticked and it had never stopped. Suddenly in my mind, the pieces, all so disjointed until now, clicked together to complete the puzzle. ‘Time loop, of course! And you think Source Code’s your favourite movie jackass!’ I shouted to myself. I finally got up, this time with a resolve and a plan.

‘All I have got to do is time the events and save the guy. That way I’ll either get out or at least have some company.’ I tried to reassure myself. Somehow, it gave me confidence and hope. Not that it was much of a plan but still it was better than lying on the road. I waited where I stood for the next iteration of events.

The footfalls began. 8:53 (approx).
And then the guy got hit. 8:57 (approx).

Well, that was easy. ‘But let’s just be sure. I also need to be sure of the location.’ I looked at my watch. The dials were gliding anticlockwise until the watch was reset to 8:45. I waited for another iteration. Footfalls, light, horn. Same time, same place (the second crossroad from where I stood).

It was 8:45 again. 8:53 again. 8:57 again. It was as if the events were being played out on a giant invisible screen and were on a loop. Everything was happening at exactly the same time it had happened last time. Now, I was prepared.

8:45….8:50. I broke into a sprint, tearing through the night. I don’t think I had ever run so hard, so desperately. There was this excitement that swelled within me as I ran. I felt as if I was running past the darkness, past the silence, I was running towards my freedom.

8:53…another set of footfalls joined mine and I ran harder.

And then an eerie realization struck me, as hard as a hammer on a nail and as effective as a knife through butter. The other footfalls, instead of growing louder were getting fainter. Panic pinched at my spinal cord with terrible force. It was as if I was on a treadmill , not covering any distance at all. I began panting…panting hard.

8:54…no progress. I was running at the same spot.

8:55…my breath began coming in short spurts. Each part of my body protested for more oxygen.

8:56…suddenly I felt a jerk and was violently pushed forward as if thrown off the invisible treadmill. I was really getting out of breath but only one thing mattered at the moment…to run.

8:57…

I stopped. What I saw then paralyzed me, first out of wonder, then out of terror and finally out of relief. There stood the guy on the crossroad, immersed in that sea of light. Only now there wasn’t just one of him but an infinite number of him, each standing one crossroad ahead of the one behind. It was as if someone had placed a mirror in front of him and a mirror behind him.

I looked down and knew what I’d see. I was standing on the crossroad. There was relief because at that moment even as I was in that plethora of sudden light, I knew that in less than a second, there’d be the blaring horn and I wouldn’t have to run anymore.

Kindly comment on the story and tell me where I went wrong. Thanks. :)

Well, I’m sorry, but there’s so much that's wrong with this story, and so little that’s right.

Considering the sequence of events you're describing you have spun it out far too much – the plot has gaping holes in it large enough to drive a truck through - and you spend way too much time telling us what you’re thinking rather than trying to keep the reader entertained or on the edge of their seats.
I’m hoping that at least you enjoyed writing this, because it was rather an unrewarding read.

Kicking off by giving ‘the alleyway’ such a dramatic build-up was perhaps not the smartest way to create tension in what is supposedly a horror story. It’s like you’re trick or treating and have already shouted ‘Boo!’ even before we answer the door. There’s nowhere left for the story to go – you either prove to us that the alleyway is indeed scary – or that it isn’t.
As for that jumble of ‘people’ you refer to in the opening paragraph – those who would not mention it, those who only did in hushed tones, those who entered and never came back out, those who did come out but who never spoke again… it’s rather a complicated assemblage is it not? A lot of information to assimilate when a simple introduction suggesting it has a darker side would have worked better.

Then you make matters worse by giving us a fairly unscary description that strips away even more of the mystery.
And these two sentences. Yeugh.
From what and how much of it I could see, I was impressed. The Alleyway definitely lived up to its reputation.
The first is a shambles grammatically, and the second is rather limp. It makes the alley about as frightening as the yellow brick road.

I’m also unsure why the scooter breaking down forced you to enter the alley in the first place. It was a distraction rather than a plot development – and it made me picture you as a pizza delivery-man rather than a gigolo.

Then we have the shriek filled with ‘agony, terror and anger’. It’s a sign of desperation when a writer has to give us three words to choose from because he can’t make his own mind up. You’re the only one who knows which of the three most accurately describes the sound – you’re not making the sound 3 times more frightening: just the opposite.
In the same way, speech written in CAPS is rather a lame way of spicing things up. The words themselves should be enough. Like exclamation marks scattered through a line of dialogue they have the opposite effect.

And as for the rather clichéed description of the howls - and your palms pressed into your ears (really? - how would that work?) – it all seemed rather contrived. You were desperate by now to warn the reader that things were getting spookier, but none of it worked I’m afraid.

Then you spend a paragraph telling us it gets quiet.

And after this speed bump in the plot things don’t get much better – there’s a skull painted on a wall which had no bearing on the story, a road traffic accident, a road sign whose significance I also failed to grasp, followed by rather a lot of pointless running, pausing, and a good deal of internalised dialogue…

I actually considered giving up reading at this point because what little tension you had attempted to inject into the plot had long drained away. It was actually hard work - like watching a really bad horror movie where the lighting is too dark to see what’s happening – and the only dialogue consists of lines like ‘What the…?’
Except, of course, instead of dialogue you tell us
I shrieked and shrieked till my throat dried out and I couldn’t shout any more. After a few moments of madness, I calmed down a little. ‘Get a grip..don’t freak yourself out!’ I told myself. And then I ran, ran back the way I came like a madman.
One question. Why?

Then the twist when it came – well since you had already fed it to us at least 5 or 6 times before the story finished, again it left me feeling cheated.

So this was basically a rather weak attempt at a spooky story with little thought given to suspense or credibility – it was about as frightening as ‘Goldilocks’ without the plot structure and characterisation.

As I said earlier – I hope you had fun coming up with this, because, if I’m honest, it reads as if you didn’t find writing it very enjoyable. More of a chore.

My advice – read the real stuff so you get a feel for how horror should be handled. Then think of your readers and how best to scare the socks off them.

H

@Hillwalker

Firstly, thanks a lot for your comments. I highly appreciate them. :)
I always fail miserably whenever it comes to writing thrillers of any kind. An idea strikes me and I think it's awesome and it goes all haywire during execution. To be frank, I had left the story midway and not looked at it for about a month or so. Well, I have started reading horror novels to improve on this. Btw, could you suggest a few scary 'short stories'?

Anyways, I'd like to clarify a few things. The 'Go Slow' sign had a significance... it sort of warned that as long the narrator did not run (went slow), he was safe. And the pissing scene followed by the shrieks....it was to suggest that 'The Alleyway' wasn't going to take attitude from a mere mortal and it brought the narrator towards itself on his knees, like a slave. But anyways, maybe I did not write it clearly enough as the message did not go across. I'll work on it definitely. :)

Thanks again. :D

Well, despite all the hoo-ha elsewhere on LitNet arguing whether Stephen King is literature or trash, no one does horror better in my opinion (when he's not being too self-indulgent).

Some of his earlier work, and his shorter novels, are excellent - and he also has some good short story collections (again - some hit, some miss).

I would suggest you try to write the story out as the ideas come to you - or at least jot down as much as you can so you know how it's going to finish up. It never works as well when you drop it then go back to it after too long a space of time unless you're working on a novel because the creative impulse is never the same.

It's also good to put it aside once it's finished then go back to edit it a month or so later. It can be surprising how dreadful certain bits can appear on a later reading when originally you thought they were marvellous.

As for failing when you write thrillers - I find it helps if I have no idea beforehand where the story is going to take me. If I can surprise myself there's more chance I'll also surprise the reader. But of course that means you have to trust your subconscious to take control and tell you what to write. The only way that can happen is if you give into it totally...

H

@Nikhar--I really liked your story. It is true I didn't vote for it, but it wasn't because I didn't think it was good. It was one of my favorites.

The thing is, you didn't go wrong. With a competition, you choose the story that probably has the most meaning to you, that you identify with more, and appeals to your interests. It doesn't mean that the other entries were terrible.

Sometimes the writing style can also influence your vote. I always like Zoolane's stories too--they are interesting--but she is very fond of...I don't know what it is technically called, this style...I know it is used a lot in American films from the 1960s-70s, foreign films, and Sundance films. Her stories are always psychological--and sometimes the two thought processes of two characters will melt into each other or two time periods will flow into each other. I usually understand the story after reading it, but it takes more effort for me to understand it. When I vote, I tend to vote for something I understood immediately.

I liked Forever Young best because I've always loved Arabian Nights themed stories. I also like "be careful what you wish for" stories, and I like stories that have a tragic sense of irony. A man wins the lotto after being broke for most of his life, and then he gets killed when a bus runs him over while he is crossing the street. Forever Young had all of these elements.

Your story was in third place for what I liked. The disqualified story, though it was rather upsetting for me in some ways, I identified with strongly because I have recently converted to Catholicism. If there had been no Forever Young, I probably would have voted for this.

I personally did feel a bit of a thrill when I read your story, and I did feel a little spooky too. Then again, Goldilocks creeped me out too. A little blonde girl walks into some strange house, eats the food, falls asleep on the beds--never once thinking that she could get in trouble for breaking and entering, that the food might have cyanide in it, that the house belongs to a serial killer and there are dead bodies in the basement, that she could be raped and murdered and nobody would ever know.....

I am one of many people who respect hillwalker's advice, and so I wouldn't say disregard it. I didn't find your story tiresome, so I don't totally agree with hillwalker. In my case, the story I voted for had more appeal, and the second runner-up I identified with. My only advice is that if you want to be a popular author, then you have to recognize what themes have mass appeal--something that everyone, no matter where they are from or their status, can relate to. Or, you can accept that maybe you won't be popular, but maybe you'll have a small following of loyal fans.

There are many books that are considered classics that I personally don't like--and yet someone must since they force high schoolers to read them. So don't lose heart!

@Hillwalker... Thanks for the advice. :...
As for Stephen King, the first novel of his that I read was 'The Shining'... it was terrifically terrifying...I loved it...(though I disliked the movie) :D
I read 'It' next.... I loved it too...but it had stopped scaring me before I had completed half of it...I found it scary as long as It was Pennywise....then it began taking all kinds of forms....

@SilentMute
Thanks for your kind words. I am really glad you liked it. And I'm gonna work harder so that next time it's your first choice. :D

@Nikhar--good luck

The Stephen King novel that really creeped me out was...I don't remember the title. It is a huge book, and actually I only saw the movie. It is about a plague that escapes from the lab and most of the world's population dies. The survivors are left to do the ultimate battle between God and the Devil.