Page 2 of Mortis

“What about the missing people?” he asked instead.

Ollie shrugged and started pacing. “People go missing all the time. Maybe they got lost. Maybe they left town. Maybe some local nutter invented the monster story years ago and everyone else just embellished it.”

James pursed his lips, watching his best friend pace through the beam of the camera light. “Maybe. But you said it yourself. It’s weird that so many people describe seeing the same thing.”

Ollie waved a hand dismissively. “Once one person says they’ve seen a seven-foot monster with horns and glowing red eyes, suddenly everyone’s seen a seven-foot monster with horns and glowing red eyes.”

“Right,” James mumbled.

“Mass hysteria.”

“Sure.”

“People love attention.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Says the man with a YouTube channel.”

Ollie stopped pacing. His glare could’ve curdled milk, but James smiled sweetly.

“Why are you trying to convince me, anyway?” Ollie demanded. “You’ve been whining about going home for hours. You should be loving this colossal failure.”

“I haven’t been whining.”

Ollie stared at him, and James stared back.

“All right,” he conceded with a sigh. “I’ve been constructively complaining.”

Ollie snorted despite himself.

James definitely didn’t want to see his friend fail. They’d been as close as brothers for as long as James could remember. Ollie had lived a few doors down from his childhood home in Bristol. They’d gone to the same primary school, then secondary, before eventually heading off to Cardiff to study the same university course.

Ollie had always been obsessed with the supernatural. He’d spent years scaring the shit out of James with creepypastas, ghost stories, and horror films he insisted had to be watched in complete darkness. So, when he finally started his YouTube channel, it had almost seemed inevitable that James would get dragged along for the ride.

Not that he minded.

Ollie, confident and loud enough to make friends with a brick wall, belonged in front of the camera. James had always been happier behind it.

He opened his mouth, ready to tell Ollie that this wasn’t a failure. That despite the cold, the blisters, and six hours of relentless complaining, he’d traipse through Barrowfell Woods for another six if it meant helping his best friend.

That, although he didn’t want to admit it, he wasn’t entirely convinced they’d found nothing either. Because every so often, when Ollie stopped talking and the woods fell silent again, James couldn’t shake the uncomfortable sensation crawling beneath his skin. The feeling that somewhere beyond the reach of their little camera light, something was listening.

But he never got the chance.

Something cracked behind them. A sharp, sudden snap from deep within the trees. Both men tensed. Ollie looked left and James looked right.

Nothing.

James held his breath and listened.

Still nothing.

Eventually, Ollie exhaled and turned towards him with what was supposed to be an easy‑going smile. But James had known him for most of his life. He noticed the tightness in Ollie’s jaw. The slight twitch beneath his left eye.

“Probably just a fox or some⁠—”

Snap.

Ollie stopped.