The Whistler In The Night

Chapter 3

Panic gripped me like a vice. My breathing was shallow, and my thoughts spiraled out of control. Where the fuck did he come from? Should I go after him? Confront him? What if he killed me? My mind bounced between scenarios, each worse than the last. The same man from my nightmares, right there in front of my house, waving like we were old friends.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. This wasn't just a bad dream anymore—he was real, and now he knew exactly where I lived. Every instinct screamed at me to run after him, to get some kind of answer, but fear kept me rooted in place.

Before I could make up my mind, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of the chaos inside my head. I grabbed it off the table and saw a message from my girlfriend, Scarlet.

"Babe, aren't you coming today? Starbucks at 8 p.m. See you there!"

Shit. I had completely forgotten about our date. My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment as I tried to shake off the lingering dread. The last thing I needed was to freak Scarlet out by telling her about all of this. She'd probably think I'd lost it. So instead, I texted her back, adding a few heart emojis to reassure her that everything was fine.

But everything was not fine.

I walked into the kitchen, trying to ground myself in something normal. I made some pasta for lunch, though I barely tasted it as I ate. My mind kept flashing back to the man, the way he stared, how his smile felt like a dark promise. I couldn't stop thinking about last night, either. Kayla's smile, her levitating. Was it all connected? What did he want with me? With her?

I finished eating and plopped down on the couch, flipping on the TV to try and distract myself. I mindlessly watched some Netflix, but none of it stuck. Time passed, and I found myself glancing at the door every few minutes, waiting for someone to come home, as if the presence of other people could push the strange events out of my mind.

Eventually, I heard the front door open. Kayla was back from university. I jumped up from the couch, almost too eager to see her, and rushed over.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice betrayed me. I needed to know if she remembered anything.

"Hey, what's up?" she said, setting her bag down and pulling her hair into a messy bun. She looked tired, like she'd had a long day.

I hesitated, then finally asked, "Do you remember anything about last night?"

She gave me a puzzled look, raising an eyebrow like she thought I was joking. "Last night? What are you talking about?"

I swallowed, unsure of how to bring it up without sounding like I'd lost my mind. "You were... doing something weird in your room. Floating, actually. And you were staring at the mirror, smiling, like... like him."

Her confused expression shifted, and for a second, I thought she might be getting angry. But then she frowned, rubbing her temples. "I honestly don't remember anything, Evan. My head's been hurting all day. I barely slept last night." She sighed and glanced at the stairs. "I'm just gonna lie down for a bit, okay?"

Before I could say anything else, she disappeared up to her bedroom. I stood there for a moment, feeling even more unsettled. She didn't remember a thing. How could she not? I considered pressing her further, but I didn't want to push her when she was clearly not feeling well.

I tried to shake off the creeping dread as I sat back on the couch, but it was no use. I stared blankly at the TV, Netflix playing in the background, but my mind was elsewhere—stuck on the man, Kayla, and the nightmare that was becoming all too real.

Hours later, I checked the time and realized it was almost 8 p.m. I needed to get ready for my date with Scarlet. I dressed quickly, trying to push all the madness out of my head. I was determined to focus on something normal, something good, even if just for a couple of hours.

I arrived at Starbucks a little after 8 p.m., spotting Scarlet waiting for me at a table near the window. She smiled brightly when she saw me, her warmth pulling me out of the haze I'd been trapped in.

"Hey!" I said, sliding into the seat across from her. "Sorry, was I late?"

She shook her head, her eyes sparkling. "No, I just got here. You're right on time."

I smiled, leaning in to kiss her, the familiar scent of her perfume helping me feel grounded again. For a few minutes, we talked about the usual stuff—her classes, weekend plans—but my mind kept wandering back to what had happened earlier.

And that's when I saw him.

At the table behind Scarlet, sitting alone, was the man. The man from my nightmares. The man who had waved at me from the black car. His pale skin, the black clothes, everything was exactly the same. He wasn't even trying to hide.

I froze mid-sentence, my blood running cold. He sat there, calmly sipping from a coffee cup, but his eyes were on me. Watching. Waiting.

Scarlet frowned when she saw the look on my face. "Evan? You okay?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. My heart was pounding in my ears, my body locking up in fear.

She turned to follow my gaze, but when she looked back, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. The man was gone, as if he had never been there at all.

"Seriously, are you okay?" she asked, her concern deepening.

"I..." I struggled to find words, but nothing I could say would make sense. I forced a smile, though it didn't reach my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just... thought I saw someone I knew."

But the truth was, I wasn't fine. Not at all.

That man—the man from my nightmares—wasn't just a figment of my imagination. He was real. And now he was everywhere I went.