(The podcast starts with Saskia Jones' trademark opening jingle, a light, punchy tune, which finishes with the recorded intro of Saskia's voice, saying 'Welcome to A Whole Lot of Sass. I'm Saskia Jones and you're listening to my podcast. Come for the ass, staaaaay for the sass' - laughter fades out the intro.)

Saskia Jones here, people. Netflix freak, reviewer and...

(There is a pause, Saskia clears her throat nervously. A chair squeaks, as if she is adjusting her position.)

Sorry. I usually do the whole 'Hey Sassies' intro here, don't I? I know, I know, it's kind of my thing.

But not today.

Today, I'm doing something different. And I have literally no idea what you will all think of this. I guess I'm a little bit nervous, you know? Okay, okay, a lot nervous. Like peeing in my pants nervous.

You're used to my one-minute snappy Netflix show reviews on TikTok. You're used to me pulling pranks on my best friends Gabs and Myles and my little brother Jakey. You're used to all the mad shit we do, and you love it – I mean, most of it anyways – and I totally know this isn't my usual content, and maybe you'll hate it, but have you ever been in a situation when you're just compelled to do something?

Yeah. That's how I feel. Compelled. Like something is telling me I have to do this. Or maybe someone is. I don't know. All I know is that I have to tell this story. Because it's bigger than this podcast. It's bigger than me and you and all of this.

I get viewers from all over. Like, seriously all over the world and it blows me away, honestly it does, but what I want to talk to you about is a local thing, okay? I mean, literally on my doorstep and I know that might have some of you switching off, but you're seriously going to want to hear this, so don't do it, okay? Stick with me on this one.

I swear, in years to come this is going to be one of those urban myths. Those stories you tell the younger kids at school. To kids like Jakey. You know what I mean, like Slenderman or the Black-Eyed Children. Creepypasta shit.

They might even make a Netflix film out of this one. Wouldn't that be insane? Like, I could be here in a couple years, posting one of my reviews on this very story. The one I'm about to tell you.

Here's the story. One name. One person.

Amelia Austen.

Heard of her yet? If you're not from round here, then maybe not. It's a local thing, like I said. One of those stories of missing people that rarely make the national news, let alone international. But this one will.

This one is going to blow up, I swear it.

And just who was Amelia Austen?

You ever hear of those tales where people just disappear into thin air? Like poof. Gone. Vanished. There's no explanation. No nothing. No one sees anything. No one hears anything. One day they're there and the next, it's like they never even existed. Of course, we know they existed because they've left family behind, right? Folks. Brothers and sisters. Grandparents. Friends. They existed, okay? But when they disappear, it's as if they just waltzed right up into a black hole and got blinked out of existence. There's no clues. No evidence. No proof that anyone committed a crime. Just this empty space where this person once was.

Well, that's Amelia Austen.

At least, it was until just two days ago.

I've got to be honest here. I'm kind of freaking out right now. I don't know what's going to happen when I post this. And I don't mean all the comments and shit from you guys, because some of you will be on board with all of this and some of you could hate it, but in the great scheme of things, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I get this story out, but I have literally no idea what will happen to me. What if what happened to Amelia, happens to me too? Because she tried to get this story out there too in her own way, and where the Hell is she now?

What if I disappear? Vanish, just like that.

(There is the sound of Saskia clicking her fingers.)

But the difference here is that I have you guys. 2.2 million of you to be precise across all my socials. If I go missing, it's going to make the news, right? You can't keep something like that quiet. They might try, but they can't. Not this time.

(There is another pause in the audio. A barely audible whisper. The chair squeaks again.)

Sorry, sorry. I thought I heard.... Nothing. It was nothing.

Okay, people, so here's the thing.

Amelia Austen was a high school student, right here in Brighton, who went missing just over a year ago when she was in her final year of sixth form. She wasn't the class weirdo. She wasn't the outcast. In fact, she was pretty popular. She was an amateur photographer. There wasn't a day that went by when she wasn't taking pictures around the school campus. She even won an award for Amateur Photographer of the Year. I remember there was a display in one of those fancy glass cabinets in the school foyer. Something about capturing movement on camera using fast shutter speeds.

But that's what makes this whole thing even stranger, because there was literally nothing about her that seemed crazy, okay?  At least nothing we knew about. Yet after this, I know that's what everyone out there is going to think. I mean, what I'm going to tell you just screams crazy. And there'll be stuff you'll hear about her life and what happened to her before she disappeared that'll convince you she was insane. After all, people don't get committed to a psych unit for no reason, do they?

And the thing is, people around her must have known. She can't have kept this to herself. And if they knew – like, her family and stuff – then why has none of this come out before? I mean, I'm sure they would have been investigated but her dad was – still is – an Inspector in the local police force, so what if there was some conflict of interest there and shit got buried? Look, I'm not saying there's corruption going on or anything like that, but something about this whole thing is seriously off.

Because none of this was reported. None of it. Nothing about her family. Nothing about her spell in Collindale and what happened there, because let me tell you, shit seriously happened there – scary, messed-up shit. I have in my possession a recording from her time there, I mean, I can't say too much about it because I shouldn't even have it, but let me tell you, it's completely crazy what she did. All of this happens, and yet... nothing.

According to local news, she was just a local girl who got up one day and simply vanished into thin air and there was no reason for it.

At least, that's what they said.

But there was a reason.

There was.

And I know this because I've seen it for myself.

(Saskia takes an audible breath, like a low whistle and there is a noticeable tremor in her voice as she speaks.)

Just two days ago, I received a photograph that shows something I'm struggling to make sense of. In fact, I can't get the image of it out of my head. It's like a movie reel stuck on the same scene and playing it over and over. Rewind, repeat, rewind, repeat. And each time I see it – each time I see that face, that awful face - it feels like nothing will ever be the same again.

You see, Amelia's disappearance wasn't just one of those things.

It wasn't.

The photograph is a selfie. Not like any selfie you, me, or the rest of the world has ever seen or even taken. There's no pout. No filter. Definitely no smile.

Amelia is staring into the camera. She's terrified. Utterly terrified.

(Saskia's voice breaks.)

I've never seen such pure terror in another person's face in my whole life.

And standing right behind her – I mean, literally right behind her – is the figure of what I can only say is a ghost. The figure is dark and hazy, like charcoal blurred around the edges, but it's the face that gets me every time. Stark. Pale. Cruel. I've never looked at something and felt so much fear before. I've never seen something that displayed so much... malice. Like, pure hatred. And it was there, standing right behind her and she knew, okay? She knew it was there and that's why she took the picture. To reveal the truth.

And what is the truth?

In all honesty, I can only speak of the truth I see.

Amelia Austen was being haunted by something truly evil and I have the evidence right here.

(Saskia pauses. The sound cuts out for a second, before seeming to glitch. There is a whisper, but it's uncertain if it is Saskia or someone else.)

And do you want to know what's even more screwed up about this whole turn of events?

It's who sent me the email. It's who sent me the photograph.

Amelia Austen did.