The Whistler In The Night

Chapter 20

My eyes and hands were tied, darkness suffocating my vision. I couldn't see, couldn't talk—my mouth taped shut, all I could sense was the cold, oppressive blackness that surrounded me. My ears strained against the silence, a thick, eerie quiet that felt almost more unnerving than any sound. Where was I? How had I gotten here? The last thing I remembered was the fire—the cabin going up in flames, Scarlet unconscious in my arms as we barely made it out. But now? Now, I had no idea where I was or if she was safe. The panic inside me surged, but there was nothing I could do, no way to act on it.

Then the silence stopped.

A faint, familiar sound cut through the darkness: his whistle. It was that haunting, chilling melody—the same one from my nightmares. A shiver ran down my spine as I recognized it. And then, worse still, I heard something else. The sound of metal being dragged across the floor, scraping and echoing, growing louder and louder with every passing second.

My pulse quickened. I was paralyzed, helpless. The fear gripped me so tightly that I couldn't even think clearly. My heart pounded in my chest, and I struggled against the ropes binding my wrists, but it was useless. They were too tight, digging into my skin, making it impossible for me to free myself.

The metal scraping grew louder, closer, like it was being dragged toward me. And the whistling—his eerie tune—it was moving in my direction, too. Panic swallowed me whole. I had no idea where I was, but it was warm. Warmer than the freezing outdoors. A cabin? A basement? Some hidden place in the woods? My mind raced, but none of it made sense.

Where was Scarlet?

That thought hit me like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, nothing else mattered. Was she still alive? Was she tied up somewhere, just like me? I couldn't bear the thought of her suffering, alone, without me to protect her.

But I couldn't escape. Not like this. I couldn't see—my eyes covered by some rough fabric that rubbed against my skin every time I moved. All I could see was endless black. I had to get out of here, somehow. I tried to shift my weight, to push against the floor with my legs, but I was weak. My body was in pain—every movement sent sharp pangs through my limbs.

I tried again to wriggle free, but in doing so, I lost my balance and fell onto my right side. The impact sent jolts of pain shooting through me, and I winced behind the tape covering my mouth, biting back a scream. The room grew colder, or maybe it was just the fear taking over. My mind was racing, desperate for a way out, a solution, but all I could do was lie there, helpless, waiting for whatever came next.

And then the sound stopped.

The scraping, the whistling—it all went silent. My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I was tempted to believe that whoever or whatever it was had gone. But I knew better. My pulse thundered in my ears as I heard footsteps. Slow, deliberate footsteps coming closer to me.

Suddenly, the cloth was pulled from my eyes, and blinding light pierced through the darkness. I blinked rapidly, my vision blurred for a moment before it adjusted to the dim, flickering light overhead. The room was small, barely big enough for me to lie down in. The walls were grimy, coated with dust and grime. Broken glass littered the corners, and the floor was cracked and uneven. There was nothing here—no furniture, no windows—just a small, dimly lit light bulb hanging from the ceiling, flickering like it was on the verge of dying.

And then I saw him.

L stood above me, his face twisted in that familiar, terrifying smile. His eyes—those hollow, soulless eyes—were inches from mine, staring into me, through me. His breath smelled of rot and decay, his pale skin almost translucent in the dim light. For a second, I thought I could see veins pulsing beneath his skin.

I tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. My hands were still tied, and I was powerless to stop him. He leaned in closer, so close that I could feel his breath on my face, the heat of it mixing with the cold sweat running down my forehead. His smile never wavered. He didn't speak, didn't make a sound—just stared at me, savoring the fear in my eyes. Then, without warning, he stood up and backed away, his smile widening.

As he moved toward the door, he whistled that same eerie tune, the one that haunted my nightmares. The sound echoed in the small room, bouncing off the walls and filling my head. He stepped out of the room, still whistling, and then I heard the door lock behind him.

I was alone.

The room felt even smaller now, more claustrophobic. The air was thick with dust and the faint smell of blood. I scanned the room, desperate for something—anything—that could help me escape. But there was nothing. No windows, no other doors. Just broken glass and filth. My eyes darted to the door, and I saw it—a smear of blood on the doorknob. Fresh blood.

I didn't know whose it was. I didn't want to think about that. I couldn't afford to lose my focus. I had to find a way out.

The light flickered above me, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Every second felt like an eternity. I could hear my own breath, rapid and shallow, as I tried to calm myself down. I had to think. I had to focus. But it was impossible with the pain, the fear, the oppressive weight of L's presence still lingering in the air.

My mind raced back to Scarlet. Was she safe? Was she nearby, tied up in some other room? Or had L already gotten to her? The thought sent a chill through my body, worse than the cold outside. I couldn't bear the idea of her being harmed, and the fact that I didn't know if she was safe was killing me inside.

I struggled against the ropes again, this time with more determination. My wrists burned as the ropes cut into them, but I didn't care. I had to get free. I couldn't just sit here, waiting for whatever horror L had planned for me next. I needed to find Scarlet. I needed to protect her.

With a grunt, I managed to shift my position, using the jagged edge of a broken glass shard near me to slowly work the ropes loose. The glass cut into my skin, but I ignored the pain. I had no choice. It was this or die.

After what felt like hours, I finally felt the ropes give way. My wrists were free, bloody and bruised, but free. I ripped the tape off my mouth and gasped for air, my lungs burning from the effort. I didn't have much time—L could come back at any moment. I had to move.

But where? The door was locked, and there were no windows. The walls were solid, no weak spots that I could see. I was trapped, and even though my hands were free, it didn't change the fact that I was still his prisoner.

I stood up, wobbling on shaky legs, my body aching from the fall and the pressure of being tied up for so long. The room seemed to spin for a moment, but I steadied myself against the wall. I had to find a way out. There had to be something I wasn't seeing.

I glanced at the doorknob again, the blood smeared on it. Fresh blood.

Maybe the lock was old. Maybe it wasn't as secure as it seemed. I grabbed the doorknob with trembling hands and twisted it, pushing with all my strength. It didn't budge at first, but I kept trying, gritting my teeth against the pain in my wrists.

Finally, with a loud creak, the door gave way, opening just enough for me to slip through. I stumbled out into a narrow, dimly lit hallway, my heart racing.

I was free—for now. But I knew this wasn't over. L was still out there, waiting, watching. And Scarlet—wherever she was—I had to find her before he did.

I had to end this, once and for all.