A Comically Long Alley

Tried something in the style of rules horror.

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It’s a calm, cloudy night, you are walking to a place you’ve never been before. Your destination is neither some exclusive club nor a sightseeing spot, but an alley between two residential buildings. A rumor has it, that in a time interval too specific to not have been added for effect, any man belonging to a specific age range that would conveniently exclude minors, entering that alley would emerge on the other side with sore balls.

Some more extreme cases have been “documented”, or so the forum claimed. To return with as many balls as one went in with one must follow a set of rules when traversing through the alley, which made it sound like a very elaborate prank. As you examine the dark passage wide enough for a car to pass through without too much precision on the driver’s part, you recall the first rule, “No matter what, don’t look back.” Sure, don’t look back so whoever spread the rumor and is probably waiting somewhere around here can have some fun with your balls without any issues. Although, now that you’re basically at the threshold between the alley and the sidewalk, it’s even more quiet than usual. Not even the occasional car passing by. Not a single apartment of the buildings around you has its lights turned on. Just a row of thinly spaced lampposts illuminating the first dozen or so steps, with some light coming from the parallel road.

Aside from the occasional trash bin and the fire escape catwalks, the alley was empty and not that well maintained, judging by the cracked and uneven asphalt. With the deep silence you found yourself in, you doubt that you would be caught completely unaware if anyone were to try and sneak up on you. Not that you were going to stop them, that’s what you came here for, after all, and if you followed the rules, you would be safe, probably.

The second rule was “Unless stated otherwise, walk at a steady pace. Avoid stopping or running. If you fall down, crawl.” And so you crossed into the alley and started walking. You glanced to the side, without turning your head, to see if the person was waiting behind the trash bin, but the obvious hiding spot was empty. Your own steps were the only noise you could hear, which was expected, but creepy nonetheless. It probably wouldn’t hurt to recall what the other rules are, just as a distraction if nothing else.

“You may make noises, but not talk.” How kind of them.

“Don’t take out your phone for any reason. The buzzing you feel in your pocket is just an illusion.” Wouldn’t want to be recorded and reported to the police, right?

“If you feel like you’re consumed by darkness, go up to the wall on your left at an angle no more than 30 degrees from your original orientation. Once near the wall, only move when told to.” It’s dark, but not that dark, you can still see.

“If you hear a whisper in your right ear, exhale sharply.” The comments mentioned that the whisper sounds like that of a group rather than one person. Could someone actually pull it off? Is this even a real clause?

“Once you’re deep enough, you’ll feel freezing. Unzip your pants and take out your balls. Don’t hide them until you reach the light.” That one still doesn’t make sense, how does having bare balls in chilly weather help with the cold?

“If you notice that you have less testicles than you should, disregard the rule about pace, and sprint to the other side. Don’t let the pain stop you. If you make it in time, everything should go back to normal. Never visit the alley again.” Didn’t even need to bother remembering this one, to be honest.

“If you notice that you have more testicles than you should, destroy the ones which don’t belong to you before the parasite infests you.” This one as well, just fluff.

Just as you were about to remember what the next one was, you felt your pants tighten around your waist. You didn’t hear anyone approaching, nor did it feel like someone was pulling up on them, it was more akin to suddenly being stuck in underwear that was way too tight for your package. “When the pressure is too much,” and it really felt like another second or two of this, and your balls would pop out of your mouth, “stop completely until you feel that you must walk.” You could probably make another step or two, you knew you wanted to, but you also understood that at the rate your balls were being squeezed, even one extra step was going to cost you dearly.

Standing still, you felt the pressure drop, both around your waist, and, more importantly, your eggs. There was no scientific explanation to what just happened. Panting heavily, you felt another kind of pressure building up in your pants. You didn’t get to dwell too much on the logistics of it, though. The moment that rule was fulfilled, you felt your balls being yanked forward, as if you were on a leash.

You stepped to overtake the tugging, but in this agitated state, misjudged your own speed and were soon feeling your balls being pulled back to this invisible anchor. That would explain the second rule. Too fast, or too slow, the punishment was the same. With an easily controlled variable like this, giving yourself that extra bit of consistent pain, if you wished to, wouldn’t be difficult.

Now that you think about it, you’ve already been walking for quite some time, but you don’t seem to be nearly as close to the exist as you should have been. You didn’t get to dwell too long on it, as you heard a whisper behind your left ear. Your first thought was to exhale sharply, as the rule implied, but as you pushed out the air out of your lungs, you recalled that there was no rule about anything to do with your left ear.

Now that you had no air to exhale, you heard the whispers more clearly under your right ear. It really was a cacophony of voices, talking complete gibberish as far as you were concerned, and at that time you were more concerned with trying to comply with the rule.

As you breathed in, trying to get at least some air in your lungs, you heard a loud thud from right under you, and in a moment, you fulfilled the rule by screaming out what little air you managed to gather in your lungs. The impact came out of nowhere, one similar to a kick from someone with impressive leg strength, and despite you wanting to know what just happened, something deep inside you forced you to keep limping forward.

The ache was intense, you instinctively knew that a couple more strikes like that and your next stop would be the ER. Your heart rate spiked, and you had a hard steadying your breath, but at least the anchor was kind enough to stabilize around your new pace. There was another rule, you didn’t even bother thinking too hard on it given the nonsense that came before it, but now that you knew that nothing made sense except the rules in this alley, you had to remember it.

“If… if…” recalling things when your balls were begging you to stop moving so much was more difficult than you’d like, but at least the ache was kind of starting to get duller, as if you had an ice pack applied to your testicles. “Right, if the lights on the second… or was it third floor…” As the pain subsided, you could start to piece things together. “No, the second. It was the second floor. If the lights turn on behind any of the second floor windows…” no matter how hard you tried you really couldn’t remember what came next.

You’d probably remember what you needed to do once the actual thing happened, so you just tried to gauge how much of the alley you had left. You think you’re almost halfway there, but at the same time, the comments did mention that “The alley is as long as it needs to be,” and that could easily be interpreted as “You’re done when the alley says you’re done”.

Stuck in thought, you felt like you were forgetting something. That dull ache felt like it was going to disappear a while ago, but at some point it started getting stronger, but in a different way. Like pins and needles rotating inside your balls. It was probably bad timing that your testicles were struck just before this effect started, or maybe an intended order of events: through your pockets you reached out towards your genitals, and your fingers recoiled from the cold. It was as if you were touching a block of ice.

In a hurry, you slowed down and tried to follow the rules. Your balls were way too cold to the touch, but you had to get them out. Stiff as a rock, your nutsack was terribly difficult to maneuver, and it felt like if you were too forceful with it, it might snap in half, or something might get cut on the zipper. Just as you were about to pull your nuts through, the anchor yanked them out of your grasp. Stifling a pained moan, you pick up the pace and try again. You couldn’t feel your fingers, to say nothing of the constant prickling in your balls, but you did manage to pull out your balls out. It was too dark to see it properly, but your ballsack was a few tones paler than it was supposed to be. Something else you couldn’t visually confirm was awaiting your action as well.

Once the feeling returned to your fingers, which took far less time than it would with natural frostbite, you could sense that your sack had two more orbs than it was supposed to. By grabbing the orbs and following them to the base, you realized that all four appeared to be connected to your body in the way they were supposed to if each was your own, but this idea of half of your sack being filled with some sort of parasite was troublesome, to say the least.

Destroying the false ones could only mean one thing in this scenario, so you pinched one of the squishy organs inside your sack between your fingers and squeezed. It was far more difficult than you hoped it would be. Something like this would be easier with tools, but with direct contact, your mind was preventing you from pressing too hard, especially right after the pain you already had to go through.

Your resolve was shaky, but you had to go through with it. You grabbed the same organ, and heard a whisper from before on your right. This time, your exhale was on time. A thud followed shortly after, despite nothing being in front of you, that felt like a punch square in the middle of your exposed nuts, completely ignoring your own hand on them. It was not as painful as the one before, but you were still left staggered from the impact, wheezing for air but mercilessly yanked forward anyway. And it was getting darker by the second.

Adrenaline rushing through your system, you couldn’t afford to give in to the overstimulation. One problem at a time, you turned slightly to the right, before remembering the correct direction and swerving to the left, while almost stumbling due to a shallow pothole. You could only voice your dissatisfaction in pained grunts, you had to conserve energy for the more difficult task.

Your hands examining your nutsack, the four organs appeared even more alike than before. There nothing you could gain by just touching, so you picked one and squeezed. An agonized yell filled the empty alley as you chose wrong and realized it almost too late. Laughter followed suit, but as much as you’d like to tell off that thing, you had better things to do.

The next candidate was as firm as the first, but when you squeezed down on it, there was no pain. Luckily, in the cramped space of your nutsack, it couldn’t elude you, and as you pinched down on it, stronger than you thought your mind would allow you, you felt something give and with a quiet crunch, like that of a squished bug, the organ burst.

The mental image of you crushing your testicle with your bare hands was something you imagined, but doing it like this, even without the pain of it actually happening, felt satisfying in a strange way few could appreciate.

Dwelling on it for too long was not advised, though, as you still had one fake to find and destroy, and also, you almost walked into the wall you were steering towards. It was really getting pitch-black, and as you stepped forward, you heard a click, and felt it right after. You were not allowed to move yet, and this pain was the reminder. As if someone snapped a clamp on your nut, rows of dull zigzag teeth biting down on your nutmeat, worse yet, targeting the one testicle you already cleared of suspicion by almost popping it yourself.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you were whining like a hurt animal caught in a trap, which, from the perspective of the one holding the leash, was exactly what you were, even if you stepped into its territory willingly.

Seconds passed, feeling like minutes, but the punishment didn’t stop, and neither were you allowed to walk, so to speak. You realized the grace you were forcefully given as an intense gaze sent chills down your spine. You were stopped, so you could finish the job.

Moving carefully, as to not disturb whatever was clamping down on your left testicle. You held the remaining organs in between the fingers of each of your hands. It was a fifty-fifty, and the longer you waited, the closer you were to a point of no return, hopefully you hadn’t already passed it as you pinched down on the rightmost testicle. A lucky break, given the circumstances, you chose correctly, and as you felt another hand cup the one squeezing down, the resistance the false organ offered rapidly waned and in seconds, all that was left of it had the consistency of slop. You couldn’t uncurl your fingers for a few moments more as the cold hand on top of your own forced you to play around with the remains of the parasite, breathing down your neck with intense emotion. You could only hope it was a playful one.

The way you were allowed to move was simple. When it squeezed on the right nut, you moved your right leg, same with the left. The uneven punishment was not playing in your favour, though. It was sort of difficult to tell when the pain was from the clamp, and when it came from the ghastly fingers, but you managed nonetheless. Sometimes it would make you move the same foot a couple of times in a row, sometimes it would make you jump. You just hoped that its breathing wouldn’t suddenly turn to whispers.

For better, or for worse, the darkness eventually dissipated and was substituted with an abundance of light. Windows lit up on each side in repeating patters, and the memory of the last rule was finally getting clearer, “If the longest chain of lit up windows on the second floor of the building to your right is at least three more than the number of testicles you still have, run, otherwise, continue with your eyes closed.”

Two, four… four. That’s the longest chain, and you still have two working testicles, so you closed your eyes without a second thought. But now that you were walking with your eyes closed, hearing the breathing that vanished with the darkness get louder and louder until it was right up to your ear, you could only pray you remembered the rule correctly.

“Keep it up,” the voice whispered on your left. “You’re almost there”, came another on your right. You knew what to do, exhaling sharply you braced for impact as you kept walking. Sure enough, you are hit where it hurts, and even if it wasn’t full force, it was concentrated on your tortured left testicle, most definitely on purpose.

Letting out a silent scream, you fall on your fours, not daring to open your eyes, you try to overcome the anchor, and try to stand up, but it’s not as easy as you’d like. First time you try, you end up having your balls stuck between your body and the rough asphalt, but you eventually get up. This was definitely more than you were expecting, but unless it loops again, which, for the sake of your nuts it doesn’t, this should be the end. Your pondering on the matter was interrupted by a woman’s scream.

“PERVERT!” you heard and before you could open your eyes a loud thwack of your exposed balls being kicked and proceeded by the noise of shoes clattering gradually growing distant was all the confirmation you needed to know that you emerged on the other side.