Page 7 of Mortis

“JAY!”

James almost sobbed. The reply was faint. Far away, but unmistakably Ollie.

“I’m here!” James shouted, stumbling towards where he thought the voice had come from. “Ollie, I’m⁠—”

Something moved behind him.

James stopped. Every muscle in his body locked. He didn’t even breathe. Then slowly, so fucking slowly, he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder.

Nothing. Still only darkness.

“Ollie?”

No reply.

“Ollie!”

Still nothing.

James’ panic climbed higher. His pulse thundered in his ears, and his breaths came short and fast. He needed to calm down. If he kept breathing like this, he was going to have a panic attack. He might pass out. And passing out in Barrowfell Woods seemed like a particularly efficient way to die.

He didn’t know what to do. Run towards where he’d last heard Ollie? Stay where he was and hope his friend came back?

He just wanted to get out.

The darkness didn’t help. Without the camera, James could barely see his own hands. Trees and bushes surrounded him as little more than black shapes against an even blacker night.

He dragged both hands down his face.

Ollie was fine. He had to be. Maybe he’d already reached the edge of the woods and that was why he hadn’t answered. He was probably halfway back to Blackthorn by now, looking for help. Knowing Ollie, he’d return with half the fucking town to find him.

Except . . . he wouldn’t.

Not because Ollie wouldn’t try.

Because nobody would come.

The locals had warned them. At the pub. In the little shop near their hotel. “Don’t go into Barrowfell Woods,” they’d said. Because people who went into Barrowfell Woods had a habit of not coming back out.

Christ, they’d laughed about it. Ollie had practically vibrated with excitement every time someone gave them another warning.

So, no. Blackthorn wasn’t coming to James’ rescue.

But Ollie was safe. He had to be safe. That was what mattered. As long as Ollie had made it out, James could live with whatever happened next.

Or die with it.

His stomach twisted, and he wished he hadn’t thought that.

When he lifted his head, something was different. It took him a moment to realise what. The woods were completely silent. No wildlife or Ollie. No rustling leaves. Even the wind had disappeared.

James stood perfectly still, listening. His own breathing suddenly sounded unbearably loud. In and out. In and out.

Then another breath answered his.

James stopped breathing, but the next exhale came anyway.

Deep, slow, and right behind him.