Page 5 of Mortis

James’ hands were shaking so violently now that whatever footage he was capturing would probably be useless. He wanted to put the camera away. Wanted both hands free in case he needed to defend himself.

But he couldn’t.

The camera powered the LED, and without it, they’d be plunged into complete darkness. His phone had died hours ago, and the torch on Ollie’s was about as useful as a glow stick.

So James tightened his fingers around the camera and kept filming.

Even as another branch snapped somewhere behind him.

Even as Ollie shuffled closer until their shoulders touched.

Even as James realised, with a sickening certainty, that whatever was stalking them could see perfectly well in the dark.

“I think we should leave,” Ollie breathed.

James heard his throat click as he swallowed. His friend’s earlier scepticism had disappeared completely.

“Y-yeah.” James nodded. “I, uh . . . I think that’s a g-good idea.”

They hurried to grab their backpacks. Ollie yanked his phone from his pocket and opened Google Maps. “Okay, I think Blackthorn’s only a few miles that⁠—”

“Ollie!”

James grabbed the front of his jacket and shook him. Ollie looked up and froze, because two red lights glowed between the trees.

No, not lights.

Eyes.

They were much closer now. Close enough that James could make out the dark centres of each one. Pupils. He raised the camera. The LED barely reached them, but it was enough to reveal the suggestion of something enormous standing in the darkness.

A broad silhouette. Too tall and too bulky, with something curved protruding from either side of its head.

Ollie whimpered beside him. “Th-those . . . those are fucking h-horns.”

The shape moved, but not away.

Towards them.

The two men bolted. Their backpacks hit the forest floor and were immediately forgotten as they tore through the trees. James somehow kept hold of the camera—instinct, apparently—and a tiny, irrational part of his brain was already lamenting how useless the footage would be when they reviewed it later. Nothing but shaking darkness, flashes of their feet, and enough breathless swearing to get the video demonetised within seconds.

Assuming they made it back to the hotel to review it.

The LED gave them barely a metre of visibility before the darkness swallowed everything beyond it. Branches whipped across James’ face. Twigs caught in his hair. Thick roots rose from the ground without warning, and more than once he stumbled hard enough that he nearly went down.

Ollie wasn’t doing much better. His blond hair was full of leaves and broken twigs. His cheeks were flushed red with exertion, his eyes huge with panic.

Neither of them knew where they were going, and neither cared.

As long as it was away.

Their shoes pounded over leaves and sticks, but another sound rose behind them. Heavier and faster, a pounding rhythm that didn’t belong to human feet. James’ stomach dropped, because they sounded like . . .

Hooves.

He risked a glance over his shoulder. Just for a second, but it was enough.

Something enormous was moving between the trees behind them. Easily keeping pace with their frantic steps.