The Whistler In The Night

Chapter 4

The man didn't stay at his table for long. As soon as Scarlet and I had settled into our conversation, I noticed him stand up and start walking toward us. My stomach dropped, every muscle in my body tensing up. His eyes locked onto mine as he approached, those same wide, icy eyes that had haunted my dreams for what felt like an eternity.

Scarlet's voice faded into the background as my attention zeroed in on him. His steps were slow, deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to terrify me. When he reached our table, he stopped, looming over us. The scent of coffee and something else—something dark and metallic—seemed to cling to him.

"Hey, Evan. Remember me?" His voice was smooth but carried a deep, unsettling chill. His lips curled into that same eerie smile, his pale skin looking almost translucent under the dim lighting.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Y-Yeah," I stammered, though I didn't want to admit it. "I remember you."

He chuckled softly, a low, rumbling sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Scarlet shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing between us, sensing the unease in the air.

For what felt like an eternity, we made small talk—if you could even call it that. Every word out of his mouth was laced with menace, though he never outright threatened me. It was the way he looked at me, the way his smile never faltered, that sent icy tendrils of fear creeping up my spine. He talked about the weather, how the night was perfect for a "nice little walk." But there was something more behind his words, something darker that I couldn't quite grasp.

I barely managed to keep up with the conversation, nodding and giving short, clipped answers. My mind was racing, trying to understand why he was here, what he wanted with me. Every word that came out of his mouth felt like a trap, but I didn't know how to escape.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he gave one last smile, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment too long. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away. As he left, he began humming and whistling that same haunting tune—the exact same rhythm from my nightmares. It echoed in my mind, sending shivers down my spine as I watched him step out of the café and get into his black car.

Scarlet shuddered beside me. "That guy was creepy. Where do you know him from?"

I stared out the window for a moment, watching his car pull away before I answered. "I've known him... for a long time." I wasn't ready to tell her the full truth—not yet. Hell, I wasn't sure I even understood the truth.

We tried to go back to our conversation, but my mind was somewhere else. My words felt disconnected from my thoughts, and everything around me seemed to blur. All I could think about was the man—his smile, his voice, the chilling way he made me feel like I was being hunted.

Eventually, our time at Starbucks came to an end, and I walked Scarlet back to her house. The cool night air helped clear my head a little, and I tried to focus on her, on this moment. When we reached her front door, she smiled up at me, and I kissed her. It wasn't just any kiss—it was the best kiss we'd ever shared. For a moment, the world felt normal again, like everything was okay. But deep down, I knew it wasn't.

As I walked back home, the warmth of the kiss faded, replaced by the cold grip of fear. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. I hurried inside and went straight up to my bedroom, changing into my pajamas and sinking onto my bed. I tried to distract myself, scrolling mindlessly through TikToks, but no matter how many videos I watched, the creeping dread wouldn't go away.

Then, I heard it.

The same strange sounds from last night, coming from Kayla's room.

My heart raced as I got up, my legs moving on their own as I approached her door. Part of me didn't want to look, didn't want to see whatever was happening inside. But I couldn't ignore it.

I cracked open the door and peered inside.

Kayla was sitting in the middle of her room, surrounded by a circle of candles. Their flickering light cast eerie shadows on the walls, making the room feel even darker than it was. She didn't look like herself—her eyes were distant, her face emotionless. She was holding a small knife in her hand, the blade glinting in the candlelight as she moved it slowly across her skin, making shallow cuts along her arm. Blood dripped down, but she didn't flinch, didn't seem to feel it.

I could hardly breathe. My stomach churned in disgust, but more than that, I felt fear. What was she doing? And why?

I wanted to run in and stop her, but something held me back. Maybe it was shock, or maybe it was something else, something darker whispering in the back of my mind. I stepped back quietly, closing the door as gently as I could.

I stumbled back to my room, my heart pounding in my chest. My mind was screaming at me to do something, but my body refused to move. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't face whatever was happening to Kayla, to my family. Not right now.

I collapsed onto my bed and picked up my phone again, scrolling through TikToks like nothing had happened, like I could just pretend everything was fine.

But it wasn't.

It never would be.