The Bloody Alley

True Stories | Jun 3, 2012 | 8 min read
96 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
True Stories

The Bloody Alley

 1 - Typical Talk


Omitting the chatter and laughter coming out of the only pub in the small town, the night was silent and calm. The pub shone a little light outside, making visible only the front of it, and the night was mostly dark.


The five men were sitting at one table, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. After all the conversation among each other (what they talked about was typical: family situation, politics, news they heard every day on TV, etc.), they sat in quiet.


Roy broke the silence when he said: "Have ya, fellas, heard that there're ghosts coming out of graves at night in our graveyard?" Roy was the strongest among them.


That was another typical thing to talk about: rumors.


"Yeah, I heard the news on TV," Bob said. Bob was the only person in the town who knew everything about it. "They say there is this widow, Lucy Mantogany, who went to the graveyard to mourn her beloved husband's death. Later that day her son reported that she never came home. The next morning people went to look for her but didn't find her."


The dumbest (and youngest) of them all, Freddy, said: "Maybe she just ran away from her family?"


"Yeah, and left the two children of hers alone," Roy said. "Why'd she do that, you dumbass?" He stood up. He put on an angry face and started to bend towards Freddy, who sat opposite to him.


   Freddy swallowed hard. He raised his hands up in the air and said: "Wow, man! Chill! I'm just sayin."


   Roy didn't listen to him. He balled a fist and put it up in a position ready to punch Freddy in the face. He moved the fist behind his shoulder and brought it back towards Freddy with speed.


   When he was about to hit Freddy, he changed his arm's direction and hit the table instead. Beer glasses hopped and spilled a little of beer onto the table's surface.


   Frightened, Freddy fell from his chair and slumped his back on the floor.


   Two seconds later everybody (except Hanks) started laughing.


   "Did y'all see his face when he fell?" Bob laughed out loud.


   "Yeah! That was awesome, Roy!" Billy said, laughing. "High-five." He put his hand before Roy, and Roy slapped it with his own.


   Roy smiled with pride (just like a child) and sat back down on his chair. He grabbed his glass and poured all the beer in it down his throat. Then he put it back on the table and wiped his lips with his palm.


   The bartender, having heard the noise, came out of the kitchen, saw Freddy lying on the ground, paid no attention (typical situation), and went back inside the kitchen. At this late hour there were no waiters.


   Freddy slowly sat up, then stood up. His back hurt a little. He picked his chair up and placed it under his but. He put his elbows up on the table and hid his face in his palms. He said nothing. Well, that's what he always did. People would push him, call him a dumbass, make fun of him, and he would not say a word. That's because he couldn't protect his rights. They called him a coward.


   "Stop it, guys! It's not funny. Stop laughin," Hanks suddenly spoke up. He usually wasn't much of a talker but in situations like this he was ready to step in. He was the wisest.


   Roy, Bob, and Billy stopped chuckling.


   Hanks put a hand on Freddy's shoulder and asked: "You all right, bro?"


   Freddy only nodded in his hands.


   For a while, Hanks just stared at Freddy, then took his hand off of his shoulder and said: "Anyway." He sighed. "This whole thing's bullshit. Ain't no ghost out there. I don't believe it."


   "You don't?" Billy asked, taken back a little.


   "Nah..."


   "Man, I'm scared to hell to go there."


   "Yeah, me too. I don't even wanna think about it," Bob said.


   "What? Seriously? Men in our age aren't afraid of no ghosts. Because they know there ain't any. I mean we're not kids. I'm surprised to hear that from you, guys," Hanks said, smiling ironically.


   "But it's real! Think about all the TV news," Billy replied.


   "Are you stupid? Screw news." Still smiling.


   "Screw news?" Bob said with a smirk on. "That just doesn't make sense!"


   Hanks cackled. "What you two are sayin doesn't make sense!" Hanks suddenly felt that his friends were really dumb. "It's ridiculous!"


   "Well, than you can go and see for yourself," Bob suggested and crossed his arms across his chest.


   "Wait, what time is it?" Roy finally said after sitting back for a while. He checked his wristwatch. "12:05 – bout the time when them zombies come out."


   If Bob and Billy haven't heard all the I-don't-believe-it-stuff Hanks was saying, they probably would have laughed right now. But right now they were a little shocked.


   "What, guys? You want me to go to the graveyard just because you believe there are ghosts? That's just so stupid!" Hanks said, waving a hand in a it-is-nonsense way.


   "So you're sayin you're afraid," Roy said placidly.


   "No. I'm not afraid."


   "Yes, you are," Billy said.


   "You're just pretending that you're not," Bob said, arms still crossed.


   Hanks didn't know what to say. They were grown men. Roy was fifty-two; Bob and Billy – forty-nine; he – fifty-six. But they act like little kids, Hanks thought, looking at their faces. After the short silence, he said:" You know what, fellas? I'ma go there right now."


   Roy's, Bob's, and Billy's ears perked up. Freddy looked up.


   Bob said: "Like right now?"


   "Yes," Hanks replied. He drank the rest of his beer, stood up, walked to the pub's rack, and grabbed his coat and hat.


   "See ya, my friends," he said, smiling, then left, while everyone behind him watched with his mouth dropped open.


2 - Night of Fear 


   Ten minutes ago Hanks would have sworn that it was the calmest night he had ever known, but right now he didn't think it was.

He got to the graveyard through the shortest way from the pub: a narrow alley that had pretty much nothing else other than huge, red roses. Lots of roses. Hundreds of roses, to be precise.

All around you looked you could only see red. Nothing more. Even when Hanks had walked along the alley in the darkness – walking in the dark was no problem; he had done that before many times - earlier that night those roses seemed to glow and brighten up the atmosphere above them. And that had given him the creeps, just as it always did.

People in the town called it The Bloody Alley, and that name creeped him as well. He had actually thought of running to get out of the alley faster, but after considering it a stupid idea, he'd shut that thought down. When he had looked up, he had seen thousands of stars in the sky, stars that looked the same every night.

A strange thing (which he didn't understand) had happened when Hanks had gotten to the graveyard. The weather had suddenly changed and become windy and so cold that right now he was actually freezing.

So he didn't bother to think about it, knowing that he would come to nothing at the end. After all, it would just be a useless loss of time.

The graveyard was small but he still didn't want to go too far. He rather preferred to do his busyness at a side, next to a gravestone that said Howard Mantogany in the middle and 1927 – 1969 below on it. Though, in the gloom he couldn't see.

Fighting the wind, he slowly walked there with his head down, one hand holding his hat to prevent it from being swept away by the airstream.

Out of his coat's pocket he took a single nail that he had found on the ground while walking the alley – the town was small, and discovering a nail wasn't a big deal.

He did what he had planned to do in seconds: he picked up a rock and hammered the nail into the ground with it. Only he didn't notice that the nail went through the edge of his coat, sticking it to the ground.

When he stood up from his sitting-on-one-knee stance and turned to go, the coat pulled him down, and he fell, the back of his head hitting a boulder.

The world before his eyes slowly shifted to grey, then paler, and paler… But he tried – struggled – to avoid white. And he did.

After the focus came back to him he saw the stars once again, but this time there were only a few.

He quickly stood up and tried to run away. But he couldn't. Something was holding him. So he pulled hard, and there was a short and unnoticeable sound as the edge of his coat ripped off. He broke loose, and that made him fall again (only this time, luckily, he dropped on his but.) He got to his feet once again and ran, without looking back, all the way back to the alley. Now he was scared.

When he had left the pub that night he had been sure that all of this ghost-stuff was unreal. Now he wasn't.

Five minutes later he was half the way through the alley, still terrified. He didn't notice that his hat was no longer on his head. In addition, he didn't notice that the back of his head was bleeding and had forgotten about the pain. All he cared about for now was his life.

He ran as hard as he could (though at this age he wasn't very fast, compared to his youth.) On his way he must have tripped twice. Five more minutes later he escaped The Bloody Alley, which was now bloodier than ever.

He turned left in the direction of his house.

    ****


When Hanks came home, he lied down on a sofa – without taking off any of his clothes – and died in fear.

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Reviews

POpz Jun 8, 2012

detailed stories really makes you imagine that you are part of what you read... thanks for the great story :)

Ayd?n Jun 10, 2012

Thank you for reading!

Lexi Jun 8, 2012

i realy loved it! its so me! :D

Ayd?n Jun 10, 2012

Thank you, I'm glad you liked it!

Amit Jun 4, 2012

Nice Story Aydin! keep writing

Ayd?n Jun 10, 2012

Thank you, I will! I'm working on 13 stories!

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