Whistling Man

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This happened about seven months ago. I was walking home from my friend’s house, it was about 9:00 at night. Because it was winter, the sun was already gone at that time of day. I was walking on a concrete trail that led into a small but dense forest.
The trail was lit only by wavering street lights, which failed to light the dark woods. I was walking with my hood on and my hands deep in the pockets of my loose unzipped sweatshirt, humming a tune, when I heard a sound.
It was a low whistle. It came from behind me, so I turned. Nothing was there.
Unnerved, I continued walking, but stopped humming.
And then the whistle came again. I turned around, and saw that all the street lights behind me were off except the one closest to me. It was as if something was following me, turning off the lights as he went.
I began running. But then the whistle came again but closer this time. I turned to face whatever it was, and saw a figure standing in the light of the only streetlight behind me that was still lit. The figure was tall, and dark. Too dark. I knew it was standing in the light, but it was not illuminated at all. It was totally black, as if on a different layer, or pasted on an image.
It just stood there, staring at me, and whistling occasionally, while I watched it, too scared to move. We watched each other for a few minutes, and then it tilted it’s head to the side, and the light above it went off, sending me and the rest of the forest into darkness. The whistling stopped.
A few seconds passed, and then the lights came back on again. The figure was gone. I whimpered, and ran the rest of the way home. My parents didn’t believe me of course. Who could blame them? But every now and then, when I’m in bed at night, I swear I can hear whistling coming from my window. And one time, I turned and looked out my window, and barely saw a black figure, with a faceless white mask, watching me.

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