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uubroot · 1 year

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Let Me Love You in My Own Way

Killer Frequency (spoilers)

Note: this fan fiction doesn’t canonically follow the game fully to make the plot more interesting. It also takes place years after the game.

The Whistling Man (Henry Barrow) x (fem)reader

Warnings: mentioned deaths, obsessive & stalker behavior, not proofread AND rushed

Summary: reader is well known as one of few survivors of the Whistling Man after his return. While hanging out with another survivor on the Whistling night, the Whistling Man returns 8 years later. Reader now relives the night, but noticed an unexpected behavior from him..

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“Good evening Gallows Creek! I’m your host, Allison Berks on the show Night of Terrors. Today I have one of our soul survivor from the Whistling Man after his return almost around eight year ago.” The hostess introduced as the cheered and clapped. Her smile as she glanced at some papers on the coffee table.

“Well Mrs. Berks I have to say, it’s a honor to be on this show.” The woman flashed a smile as she calmed her nerves down. It’s been so long since she really talked about that night. Allison chuckled.

“I feel like I should be the one saying that to you, really. I mean, you are Gallows Creek’s main survivor of the Whistling Man.”

“No, please, I’m not as successful as you are.”

“Well, I bet you won’t have any trouble. I’ve heard from your friends you’re quite talented. But, perhaps that’ll be a discussion for another time. As we all know, tomorrow is the night of the Whistling night. I just have a few questions about the night lit you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all, ask away.” The hostess grinned as she held her tea in her hand.

“Now you along with Carrie claimed that the Whistling Man spared you. Can you tell us what happened that night? We’d love to hear it from the final girl herself.”

The woman chuckled nervously, holding her beverage in her hands as she stared down at the liquid.

“Well, I wouldn’t call myself the final girl, scream queen or whatever. Carrie deserves it. She actually made a plan and fought. It was..different for me.” She sipped her beverage before letting out a quick sigh.

“Um…I was in my home. Lights were off, nobody was with me, I was listening to Forrest Nash and Peggy Weaver’s station about the murders. While listening in, I heard the whistle,” She paused. Allison placed a hand over hers.

“It’s ok, you can take your time.” She reassured. After taking a breath in, she continued.

“He was in my kitchen. I don’t know how he got inside since my back door was locked, but he did. My front door was farther away and he was in front of my back door. So I ran upstairs and pushed whatever was near me down the stairs to slow him down.”

“That’s when you called Nash? You were whispering when you called.” The woman nod to confirm.

“Before I was able to make a plan, he- the Whistling Man grabbed the phone and placed his free hand on my face. He just…stared at me. Did nothing. After a bit he just tossed the phone and walked out.” Her voice softening, as if she dozed off to think about that night.

“Wow. That’s definitely out of character for him. Um, you must’ve been terrified.” Allison folded her hands.

“I was. I grabbed my phone and told Nash what happened. I didn’t see him after that.”

“Well, the night is tomorrow. Do you have any plans?” Allison questioned to lighten up the mood.

“Well, I’ll be having company over for the night. I hope that nothing will happen tonight for me. Or anyone else. It’s very traumatic and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.” Allison nod at the plan before continuing the show. After a while, Allison thanks her before thanking the audience and ending the interview.

——————————————-

“Well, is it true?”

“Is what true?” She sat down with snacks right next to friend. The lights were dim. The television providing most of the light.

“You know, your interaction with the killer. Didn’t leave any details out?”

”Eugene, why would I make it up? Did you make up your ‘love of your life?’” She sassed him.

“Hey, I was a dumb teenager then…” He huffed. She chuckled, handing him some snacks.

“I wasn’t lying. It was really weird. It sucks that they still don’t know who was behind the mask. Forrest was so close to the truth..” Eugene nod in agreement.

“Yeah…so many people died during this day.”

The two changed the subject and switched through channels to find something to watch. She met Eugene while at work. He recognized that she was survivor and they talked about that night, becoming good friends after.

It was last. The night has been long. Maybe because she stayed up so late, maybe the dread of it being the night of the murders. She couldn’t tell if it was one of those reasons or both. She was a little bummed that Eugene had to leave for some emergency with his girlfriend. She waved goodbye and went upstairs to go to bed.

She tossed and turned under her covers. She couldn’t rest for some reason. Perhaps it was her just being paranoid, but she decided to try again. It didn’t work. She sighed, getting up and going down the stairs to get a glass of water. She looked around in her kitchen as she took a sip. An odd feeling raising inside her as her heart started racing.

Something didn’t feel right.

She tried to shake off the feeling, but it didn’t go away. The lights were off. The night was cold and silent. It was always haunting. The woman placed the water down and switched it out with a knife. She placed the knife in her hoodie pocket. She glanced outside of the back door.

Nothing.

She let out a sigh, making her way back to stairs as the feeling started to fade away and the weight fell off her shoulders.

But it came back.

The faint sound of a familiar whistle could be heard somewhere nearby. Was it inside? Was it outside? The whistle called out once again, proving that it wasn’t her imagination giving her hearing phantom trick again.

No. Not again.

She hurried up the stairs and quickly shut her door. She turned around to see him.

The Whistling Man.

He reached out and yanked her away from the door. She tried to scream and pull away, but his grip was too strong and his other hand was against her mouth. His horrifying mask tilted to the side as watched her struggle.

The man waited until she stopped struggling and quiet down. His hand slowly left her mouth. He let go of her body, shoving her dresser in front of the door.

“Hey, what the hell-” She was about to speak up before to made a sharp turn towards her. She shut her mouth, stepping a few steps back. He watched her for a few seconds before walking towards her desk. She hugged her arms as she watched him look at her desk. He scattered through the papers, picking up a newspaper. He turned back to her, looking up at her from the newspaper.

“I- um, I couldn’t help but do some research..” She chose her words carefully, barely speaking above a whisper. He tossed the newspaper back on the desk. The masked man walked back up to her. Her heart quickens, watching him get closer and closer.

Then she remembered. The knife in her pocket. She grabbed the knife’s handle and swung the knife, aiming it at his chest. But she wasn’t quick enough. The Whistling man grabbed her wrist. He added pressure. Forcing the knife to drop from her hand. He swiftly pushed her against the wall, keeping her in place.

“Let me go!” She cried out. She let out a sob. The man slowly tilted his head to the side. His hand reached for her face. Instead of being hit, choked, or any sign of violence, his hand caressed her face. A small gasped came form the woman.

“What do you want from me?” She whispered. He just stared, his hand still on her cheek. The masked man let her go, his hand leaving her face. She watched him grab his knife from the desk and slipped out of her window. He glanced at her one more time, disappearing from her view. She slid down against the wall, letting out a sigh out of relief. After a moment to collect herself, she got up and looked at the desk.

Is that…blood?

She then scattered towards the window. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The woman then reached for the door, moving the dresser out of the way. She raced down the stairs and looked outside of the windows. A car parked outside near her house. Her blood went cold. It was Eugene’s. She didn’t want to believe it. His car, the blood…is he?

She quickly grabbed her phone and ran out, calling out to Eugene.

“Eugene? Eugene!” She called out, sprinting towards his car. She stopped, seeing a familiar red liquid drip from the car. No, no, no. She followed the trail on the ground to meet Eugene’s still body. The screamed, letting out sobs as she called for the police.

“Hello? Hello police? Please I need help-”

“This is 189 16-”

“Forrest? Oh God Forrest please help me! It’s me. He’s back and he got Eugene!” She stammered over her words.

“Are you alright?” Forrest asked. She assured him that she’s alright. After answering a few questions, her breathing got heavy and quickened.

“Hey, breathe. You’ll be alright.” Forrest caught her attention back. She couldn’t believe it. It was like that night all over again. The police being down, having to talk to Forrest for help…

The Whistling Man.

“Hey, we called someone that’s going to help and get Eugene. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Yeah…yeah ok. I’ll uh, call you back. Thanks Forrest.” She hung up and sat next to Eugene.

“Come on Eugene…” She murmured.

——————————————-

“Forrest? It’s me. The person you called came and took Eugene.”

“Glad to hear that everything worked out.”

“Yeah…Forrest? How many other calls did you get about the Whistling Man?” A few moments of silent passed by until Forrest sighed.

“Quite a few. Doesn’t seem like he’s playing this time.”

“I wish you luck with the others. And please, figure out who it is. This needs to end.” She told him.

“Right. Talk to you soon.” Forrest said his goodbyes.

She sighed in relief before dragging herself back to her door. She looked down while looking for her keys.

Huh?

She looked down to see a single flower and a note.

I’ll see you soon

- Hen W.M.

She stared at the note as a shiver trickled down her spine. She took the note and the flower inside. She sat on a stool in her kitchen, twirling the flower in her hand.

“Who the hell could this be from?” She asked herself, staring at the note. It was haunting, eerie. She look outside, letting out a loud gasp.

A familiar mask was on the other side of the window. He let out another whistle before walking away. She didn’t even bother to call Forrest. It felt…different than being stalked and killed. Was he the one who left the note? Why? She was too tired to stress anymore. She placed the flower in a vase and went upstairs.

Tonight was stressful enough.

——————————————-

As she went upstairs, she failed to notice the masked man watched her go up through the window again.

He still had much so much to do, but

Harming her will never be on the list. He picked up his blood stained knife and walked back into the woods.

Gallows Creek needs to pay, to have a cleansing.

And he’s glad that she didn’t seem to notice his mistake signing the note.

He let out one more whistle, going to find the next one of the list.

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A/N: very rushed but hey, this is just chapter one. Maybe? Might continue this. But hey! The Whistling man content for my simps

#my heart #killer frequency #henry barrow x reader #i cry

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