The reason I am writing this today is that I need to warn the maximum number of people possible. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t at least try. I can feel it: the more powerful he gets, the more powerless I feel. I won’t be able to stop him but, maybe, I can slow him down.
My name is Mike. I am 24 and the thing that happened to me defies the laws of physics. I have tried to rationalize, to tell myself I was just going crazy, but I cannot bury my head in the sand forever. Let me tell you how it all started. When I was in elementary school, I had a group of friends with whom I spent all my time. We were all close, except maybe for Boris. We liked him, but he was annoying. The only thing he would talk about was that old cartoon that his mother brought him from a garage sale. We listened to him the first few times and rapidly got bored after that. The cartoon sounded weird. And to be honest, we were more interested in exchanging Pokémon cards and playing marbles.
A few weeks into his obsession for the cartoon, Boris came to school looking extremely pale. We asked him if he was sick, but he just sat there in silence, with a weird grin on his face, looking around the room, his eyes wide open. The class began, and we were all focused on some calculus, when Boris started to whistle. The teacher asked him to stop immediately, but he just wouldn’t stop.
After a few minutes, the teacher lost patience and grabbed Boris’ hand to take him to the principal’s office. Of course, the classroom filled with laughter and chatter as soon as the teacher left with him. But I was genuinely scared for my friend and I kept staring at his desk. That’s when I noticed it. On his chair, there was a VHS tape. I stood up and went to grab it, I was very curious. The tape seemed in good condition and on the side, I read: “The Whistleguy.”
I bet it was that cartoon that he kept talking about. I only remembered a vague description of it. It was about a character with a large balloon head and a top hat, who went about his day whistling and holding an axe. Like I said nothing to be excited about. But I don’t know why, I knew I had to look at it. I knew it would explain my friend’s behavior. I put the tape in my bag. When the teacher came back, she explained that Boris wasn’t feeling right and that his parents came to pick him up. I spent the whole day waiting to go home and watch the cartoon.
After school got out, I quickly said goodbye to my friends and rode my bike so fast that it took me half the time it usually did to get home. I said hello to my parents and ran upstairs to my room. I took the tape out of my bag and looked at it. I didn’t notice earlier that the title was written in an irregular carved fashion.
I was going to put the tape in the VCR, when I heard Mom calling me from downstairs. She seemed in distress. I threw the tape into my old toy box and ran to her. Mom and dad were standing in the living room, their eyes were filled with tears.
Her voice was shaking, but Mom managed to speak.
“Mike, it’s Boris. He had an accident. He’s… I’m sorry. He’s dead.”
I fell into her arms and cried like I had never cried before.
It was the first time I had lost someone, and I didn’t handle it well. I missed school for two weeks after that, I was depressed to the point where my parents had to take me to a psychologist. After a year of therapy, I finally was able to grieve. I still thought about it, of course, but the pain wasn’t so unbearable anymore.
Fast forward to a few years ago, I was going through old stuff when I found an old picture of me and my classmates. Boris was there, smiling happily like the rest of us. The events came back to my mind, and I decided to finally check how he died. My parents and the school always kept it a big secret and we were forbidden to talk about it.
I did my own investigation and what I found was worse than I ever imagined. According to the local papers, Boris was found dead in his room: he was hanging from a rope that he tied to the top of his bunk bed. But that was not even the most disturbing part. It was written that his eyes were wide open and that he had a terrifying, wide grin on his face. I decided to leave it all alone. That was too disturbing, and I didn’t want to spend another year going through therapy.
Time went by and I kept pushing the memory away. It was getting easier and easier, as I had lost all contact with my childhood friends and my parents had moved from our little town.
I now lived with my girlfriend, and a few days ago, we decided to have a garage sale. While going through the cellar, I found a box with all my childhood stuff. I didn’t even remember when I brought all of that to my house. It was full of pictures, toys, my Action Man. But what caught my attention was an old VHS tape. It was at the bottom of the box. Strangely, the tape seemed in a good condition, as if the years going by didn’t affect it. It was also the only thing in the box that didn’t have dust on it.
What went through my mind gave me the chills. I could see flashes of Boris… hanging from the cord, swinging left and right, as he looked deep into my eyes, smiling. And all of a sudden, his face moved, and he started to whistle. The sick noise was coupled with the sound of the rope against the wooden bunk bed.
I shook my head to clear those terrible images from my mind. It had been years since I thought about the tape. My therapist did such a good job, that it was as if he never existed. But now, I wanted to see it and finally lift the mystery from it. I knew I had a VCR somewhere. So, I looked for it for a good hour and finally found it. I heard my girlfriend calling me for dinner and I left all my findings on the floor. I was going to wait until she fell asleep to go back and watch the cartoon. I didn’t want her to be disturbed by the story.
The moment finally came, and I took the VCR and the tape down to the living room and plugged everything in. I have to admit that I was surprised that the old VCR was still working. I put the tape in and the familiar noise on the tape entering the VCR gave me chills. Weirdly, the tape didn’t start right away and stayed a few minutes on a black screen. Then suddenly, it started.
It was an old cartoon from the 30’s. I could hear a metallic sound, coupled with cartoonish music: it sounded like typical music from this era. The cartoon was in black and white and had a yellowish tint to it. The first scene was set in what seemed to be an old garage or a shack filled with tools. There was a character standing with his back to me. He was holding a hammer and tapping on something. It looked like he was building something. He grabbed more tools and while doing so, he kept whistling the same melody. I was getting more and more uncomfortable. That sound terrified me. I knew I heard had it somewhere.
The character turned slowly and what he was building finally came into sight. It was a hatchet that he was waving with pride. The character was strange! He had a huge balloon looking head. He was wearing a tie tied so tight that anyone else would have suffocated from. His eyes were really dark, and his top hat was tiny. It was him. The Whistleguy.
He started to walk toward the house in a typical 30’s animation style, his eyes sparkling with excitation. In the garden, there was a tree that seemed way too big for him to go by. A little bubble popped at the top of his head and inside you could see the tree + a hatchet = a pile of wooden logs.
I finally understood that he was making the hatchet to cut down the large tree. For a second, I asked myself how it was possible to build a hatchet with the few tools I saw him use, but hey, it was a cartoon, after all.
The Whistleguy started to whistle once more and to juggle with the hatchet, making it fly in the air and grabbing it before it touched the ground. He did that a few times before the hatchet flew one last time and got stuck in one of the tree branches. The Whistleguy seemed sad and started to jump in the hope of grabbing the hatchet back. But it didn’t work. And then suddenly, a light bulb appeared above his head. He visibly had an idea. He approached the base of the tree and started to shake it, so the hatchet would fall.
Surprisingly, it worked. The hatchet fell and got stuck in the Whistleguy’s head.
The music stopped the moment the hatchet struck his head and a very realistic bone-breaking sound could be heard. The Whistleguy was expressionless. His eyes were completely empty.
The scene was particularly disturbing and unexpected. I was just waiting for him to pull it out, as if nothing happened. It was a cartoon, after all, and the characters never get hurt for real.
But instead, a stream of blood started from the top of his skull, where the hatchet was.
I was shaking with fear. It all seemed so unbelievable.
The character was still not moving, only gazing into the blue. The blood quickly covered his whole face. Then he started to smile. The large grin on his face made him even more terrifying than he was already.
After a few seconds, he finally moved. He grabbed the hatchet with his hand and yanked it out. The sound it made was horrible.
The music started again as soon as the hatchet was out. But the music was different. It was dark and scary.
The Whistleguy didn’t seem to care about the tree anymore and was staring at the hatchet he was holding. The hatchet was covered in blood. The more he stared at it, the wider his grin became.
He started to walk, and more blood started to pour from the top of his head. His smile and his eyes were terrifying. A little whirlwind had appeared in his eyes and was whirling faster and faster. And the blood on his teeth made it nearly unbearable to look at. Again, he started to whistle the same melody.
Not far from him, I could now see another character. He seemed a little off. He came toward the Whistleguy smiling. The Whistleguy just lifted the hand with the hatchet above his head and struck the other character on the shoulder.
The other character started to scream in a macabre way. But the Whistleguy didn’t flinch and continue to strike his body again and again, until only a pile of flesh and bone was left.
He left the other character on the floor and started to walk again. Another character, a woman this time came across The Whistleguy, and as soon as she saw the pile of flesh, she started to run in the other direction. The Whistleguy didn’t try to chase after her. He simply threw his hatchet with all his strength and it struck the lady in the back. She fell, screaming for someone to help. But it was in vain. The Whistleguy grabbed his hatchet back and then struck the lady multiple times, just as he did the previous character.
The Whistleguy went on for minutes, killing everyone he came across. When he was not whistling, that disturbing grin was on his face. He looked completely deranged.
And then he suddenly stopped. All I could see was his back. He was completely still. Slowly he started to turn his head toward the screen, and with every inch, a terrible bone-cracking sound could be heard, as if he was breaking his neck in the process. Little by little, his face became more visible. It was as if he was staring right through me, the little whirlwinds in his eyes turning at incredible speed. He was smiling at me too.
Then he put his finger on his lips, still looking straight at me and said, “Hush-h-h-h-h-h-h.”
After that, everything went black. No more sound, no more images. The video was over. The tape came out of the VCR by itself.
I just sat there for 10 long minutes. I didn’t know what to do. I was petrified and in total disbelief. What just happened?
It felt like The Whistleguy could see me behind the screen and that what he just gave me was a warning.
I couldn’t think straight. But I was tired, so I took the tape and hide it in the cupboard that was nearby. Then I lay on the couch and fell asleep instantly. During my short sleep, I had weird nightmares. I could see him: The Whistleguy, watching me sleep. In the nightmare I couldn’t move. It was like sleep paralysis.
His body was hunched over me, his head above mine, the same grin he had in the video still on his face. His hatchet was also back in his skull and drops of blood were falling on me.
He was so close, I could see my reflection in his eyes. He then grabbed the handle of the hatchet and started to take it out very slowly. The sound it made gave me goosebumps, but I still couldn’t move. I was now covered in his blood. Then when he finally took it out, he lifted it above his head. And at the moment I should have received the fatal stroke, he smiled wider and put his finger on his lips and said: “Sh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h.”
I woke up, panting and sweating, and my heart raced in my chest. I sat down on the couch, wondering if all of it was true. But there was no blood around me. No Whistleguy. I was alone, and it was still dark outside. I checked my watch and it was only 6 am.
I looked at the VCR and remembered I hid the tape in the cupboard. I grabbed it and went upstairs, and threw it in the attic.
I’ve never been back up there since.
In the days following that incident, everything got worse and worse. I had vivid hallucinations that gave me nausea and vertigo. At least, I like to think it was only hallucinations.
I could see the Whistleguy everywhere while I was watching TV. But he only appeared in cartoons.
The first time I saw him, it was in an episode of The Simpsons. He was in the opening credits, waiting in front of the family house, holding his hatchet ready to strike Homer, as he got out of the car. I blinked for one second and he wasn’t there anymore.
The next time was during a Family Guy episode, again, during the opening credits. He was at the top of the stairs where the family dances. He was also dancing, the hatchet buried in his head. He stayed visible for longer than before. And worse, he was still staring right at me. Every time, he seemed a little closer.
After a while, I resigned myself to not watch cartoons anymore, because he was indeed getting closer and closer, and now all I could see was his whirlwind eyes looking through my soul.
I was tempted to show the video to other people, just to verify that I was not going completely crazy. Isn’t that what Boris was trying to do? But I don’t know, I had the feeling I shouldn’t.
I started to ask myself questions. Why did Boris bring the tape to school? Why was he talking about it so much? Was he trying to infect us with The Whistleguy too? And if it was the case, why would he do that?
The days kept getting worse and worse. Now when I was going for a walk in broad daylight, I could hear his whistle behind me. My nights were filled with gruesome nightmares. And when I woke up, I would hear him hushing me from under the bed. I never dared to try and look under, I just knew he was there waiting for me.
I went online to try to find information on him, but I couldn’t find anything. I was expecting that result. It was like, apart from Boris and I, nobody had heard of him.
I was at a loss: I just accepted my situation. I just felt that talking about it would make it worse, so I decided to bear all of it by myself.
One night, I was getting back from work in my car, I heard a quiet whistling sound, coming from the back seat. I didn’t dare to look in the rear-view mirror immediately. But after a few minutes, curiosity won over my fear. I checked, but there was nothing. Nothing on the back seat.
He was on the passenger seat!
I slammed on the brakes as he reached for me with his hands. And I left the car as he opened his mouth and let out a deafening scream.
I fell backward in the middle of the street and I saw the passenger door open. He was whistling. He appeared slowly and came my way, happily whistling, the hatchet visible in his hand. The headlights of my car shone on his face, the same terrifying face I had seen so many times.
Then he stopped. I pushed myself backwards, the surface of the road catching my clothes, and his throat started to make the same sound as in the cartoon. His scary eyes stared into mine. His mouth was deformed in a horrible grin and his body was still. Actually, we were both still.
After several minutes, that seemed like an eternity, his head started to inflate more and more until it reached an inordinate size, going way above the top of the car. It sounded like thousands of balloons being inflated at the same time. Under the pressure, his eyes popped out of their sockets. The wound on his head never poured that much blood. It was squirting everywhere. The headlights were covered in it, giving a gloomy reddish light, and because of that, the scene was even more disturbing.
Without warning, he ran towards me with impressive speed. Just before his body touched mine, his head exploded in a deafening roar. I felt pieces of his skull touching my face and body. I panicked, got up, and scurried to the car. I was so stressed that I could not get hold of the keys still on the ignition to start the engine. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I had blood in my eyes, I could barely see what was happening in front of me.
I was finally able to find the keys, and turned them quickly to start the car. Just before pressing the accelerator, I could see the Whistleguy still standing, axe in hand. His head was slowly inflating again.
But before he could do anything else, I sped off, crushing the accelerator pedal, and drove as fast as possible to my house. The blood had completely disappeared. It was as if none of it had happened.
I could not sleep that night because he was there again. I could hear him whistling outside in the garden.
I did not tell you much about my girlfriend, but you have to know that I did not tell her anything. She found my behavior very strange that week, even though I tried to hide my emotions as much as possible. Sleeping on the couch did not help. I was afraid to tell her about it because she never heard him whistling. She didn’t see it when he appeared in the cartoons. I was afraid that if I told her about it, she too would end up seeing him and be tortured by his presence.
I heard it again and saw it a few times after that. But that's not even the worst of it.
The worst is what I am becoming little by little.
Just like him, I whistle, without even realizing it. I hear him more and more often, nearly every day. Sometimes I see him staring out the window, when I go home, on the road, or when I take a shower.
I know I am doomed. But what I'm sure of is that I shouldn’t share this tape.
That's why, one morning, I went up to the attic to get it and destroy it. But it was no longer there.
I was sure that I threw it there. I immediately questioned my girlfriend to see if she had seen it, on the pretext that it was a video of me as a child that I had found while cleaning the attic, but nothing came of it. She assured me that she had not touched it.
I knew why it disappeared. I knew The Whistleguy was keeping it with him.
He had given it to Boris because he was on the verge of death, and the fact that he shared it would have been beneficial to The Whistleguy. But before anyone could watch the video, he hanged himself. It was too late.
But The Whistleguy is now at my place. This monster had succeeded.
And he knows that I would never, ever share this video with others. I suppose it only postponed the inevitable, like in the movie The Circle, but I would still prefer to die first, than to do that to others.
Here I am today, a smile frozen on my face that I cannot remove. The muscles of my cheeks are sore, but I had to tell you all of that before I left.
I wrote a farewell letter to my family, my friends, without mentioning The Whistleguy once. I do not want them to start looking for this tape.
This post that I write has a purpose. It is necessary that a maximum number of people outside of my peer group are warned.
The tape has disappeared, but I'm sure The Whistleguy dropped it off somewhere else.
If one day, you see a tape called "Whistleguy's Day", do not touch it, even if you want to try to destroy it. And under no circumstances, should you try to watch it, otherwise The Whistleguy will be chasing you.
As I write this, I feel his breath on my neck. I know he's behind me.
My lips keep stretching in a horrible grin.
I know why The Whistleguy was asking me to shut up now, telling me to “sh-h-h-h-h-h”. On the one hand, it allowed him to torture me as he pleased. But on the other, if I had talked about it, he would have started all over again with someone else.
But he'll have to wait a long time now, because when I tie the rope that is next to me around my neck, he won’t be able to act for a long time.
Once more, I beg you, if you find this videotape, never, ever watch it.
Because The Whistleguy can be everywhere. This tape can fall into anyone’s hands. I was able to hold it for a while, but it will eventually come out of the shadows again.
And if that is the case, if you find on it, it will catch you too. And you will live forever in the nightmare of this cursed cartoon.
Written by SkullStories