Page 1 of Mortis

Prologue

James regretted choosing a fallen tree as a seat. The wood was bumpy and uncomfortable beneath his arse. Nothing like the soft cushion of his ergonomic gaming chair at home. Which was exactly where he should’ve been.

Home.

Not spending the evening filming his best friend for his paranormal YouTube channel while getting eaten alive by whatever insects were apparently brave enough to live in Barrowfell Woods.

The place certainly lived up to its reputation.

It was vast, the trees packed tightly together, their branches tangling overhead and blocking out what little remained of the autumn light. Quiet too. Given the size of the woods, James had expected to see more wildlife. But in the six hours he and Ollie had spent dawdling between the trees, they hadn’t seen anything more interesting than a few flies and a dead squirrel. There wasn’t even any birdsong.

That bothered him more than he wanted to admit. The silence felt heavy. Oppressive. Every snapped twig beneath their boots seemed too loud, and every rustle of leaves made James glance over his shoulder, expecting to find something staring back.

Of course, there never was.

By the time the sun disappeared completely, James was cold, tired, and thoroughly regretting every decision that had led him here. His thick jumper and brand-new windbreaker did little against the chill settling deep in his bones. His legs ached, his feet were sore, and the walking boots he’d bought specifically for this trip had rewarded him with a blister on each heel.

His camera remained focused on Ollie.

His best friend sat on a pile of fallen leaves a few feet away, and the thought of the damp and dirt undoubtedly soaking through the arse of his jeans made James cringe.

“People have been disappearing in Barrowfell Woods for decades,” Ollie explained in the over-the-top voice he reserved exclusively for filming. “And the bodies that were found . . .” He paused dramatically. James resisted the urge to tell him to get on with it. “Well, let’s just say there wasn’t much left of them.”

“Subtle,” James muttered from behind the camera.

Ollie shot him a look before immediately returning to presenter mode.

Their surroundings were cloaked in darkness now, the only nearby light coming from the small LED clipped to James’ camera. It made Ollie’s tanned skin look unnaturally pale, while everything beyond him disappeared into black.

“The locals report seeing an enormous horned figure lurking between the trees.” Ollie dragged a hand through his messy blond hair. The action left several small leaves tangled in the strands, but James decided not to tell him.

Call it payback.

“And if you see a pair of glowing red eyes . . .” Ollie leaned closer to the camera. “You should probably run in the opposite direction.”

James glanced beyond him into the darkness.

Nothing.

Still, an uncomfortable prickle crawled across the back of his neck.

Ollie rose to his feet, brushing leaves from his jeans, and James followed. “They warned us not to come into the woods after dark.” One side of Ollie’s mouth curled upwards. “But what’s life without a little excitement?”

“Safe,” James deadpanned. “Warm. Significantly less damp.”

Ollie rolled his eyes and made a slicing motion across his throat. James stopped recording, and the transformation was immediate. Ollie’s smile vanished. His shoulders slumped, and he released a long, irritated breath.

“We’ve been here for hours and found nothing,” he complained. “No Satyr. No bodies. Not even a spooky noise, for fuck’s sake.”

“Personally, I’m quite pleased about the no bodies part.”

Ollie ignored him. “We haven’t even caught anything decent for the thumbnail.” He kicked at the pile of leaves he’d just been sitting on. “We’re only doing this because I found the story on the Boo Who? blog, and all the reported sightings were weirdly consistent.”

He tipped his head back and groaned at the canopy.

“But it’s all fucking bollocks!”

James stayed silent. He’d been holding back his own complaints for the last few hours, and they were currently queuing at the back of his throat. But voicing them would only rile Ollie up further, which would make him even more determined to find something. And James wanted to get back to their hotel before his feet required amputation.