Chapter 1

The Blackthorn Experimental Forest is hidden deep within the Appalachian mountain range. For your own safety, I won’t tell you where.

Experimental forests aren’t uncommon in the United States. Generally serving to provide restricted areas for ecologists and many other professions to conduct research within. This way their data is less likely to be disrupted by human activity. Some offer more accessibility to the public than others, but they generally maintain the public to designated paths. Experimental forests such as Blackthorn, are completely restricted and even hidden from the general public. The building itself is unassuming from the outside as to not draw attention. Modeled after a ranger station not unlike others in the surrounding area. Once inside, the above ground levels are all admin. All research is conducted in a multitude of sub-floors. Obviously I can’t go into too much detail. I’m already breaking quite a few NDA’s by making this post.

The site I am currently stationed at specializes in the study of atypical ecology. Such as plants, fungi, and animals that are deemed unsafe for conventional scientific study. A few examples would include Hyposmocoma cerebrophagus, Wynnella aculeatus, and Theraphosa fecundum. You wouldn’t know these species, or be able to find any information on them either. But you might be able to draw some conclusions from their names. For any new species discovered, we will sequence their genome in order to place them under the genera containing their closest relatives. Then giving a species name based on its most prominent feature.

I am a mycologist. Before I was employed by Blackthorn, I was a materials scientist specializing in the use of fungi for alternative purposes. Like growing mycelium into specific shapes for biodegradable packaging. That’s just a simple example but it should serve to give you a general idea of what I do. I’ve been able to use that expertise here by developing various products from the atypical fungi here. Most of them are more efficient ways to manufacture profitable compounds already known to science that can be sold through shell companies. However, the US is fond of having a few aces in the hole they can fall back on. So the highest priority of my department is R&D for biological/chemical weapons. The site does more work with the fauna and flora of the surrounding environment as well, and I do have friends in different departments. I can share some of their stories here at a later time.

Now that you have a better understanding of what I do here, I can get into a few anecdotes and explanations that I feel the general public should be aware of.

Very early on in my tenure, I was assigned to a field study on the outskirts of the wetlands bordering Blackthorn. Mainly doing grunt work while I earned my way into the lab. I was out with my colleague Casey. Not his real name. We were collecting soil samples leading from the surrounding forest and into the more boggy areas so that the guys back at the lab could try to quantify the gradient of nutrients and basically just see what changes chemically between the two. The day was slow going until we heard a rustling somewhere nearby. Casey pointed out into the bog. His eyes were narrowed, semi-crouching, and in a hushed tone he said:

“Did you see that?”

“No, what was it?” I replied, matching his tone.

“Not sure. But if those safety videos they made us sit through are anything to go by then I don’t want to find out.”

“You can’t possibly believe all that. Can you?” I asked incredulously.

At that moment in my career I had only seen infographics and heard short cautionary tales of some of the more dangerous predators in the area. I think they told us just enough to keep us on our toes, but not so much that we wouldn’t agree to go out.

“Better safe than sorry.” Casey looked at me as if I’d wounded him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, what they said is out here. It’s hard to believe”

As we were discussing the credibility of our superiors, a deer wandered close enough to spot through the forest. Its head low, frame withered, and coat matted. It lazily sifted through the detritus on the wet forest floor.

“Jesus.” Casey muttered.

The deer, having not noticed us until Casey’s muted exclamation, bolted away from us. Stumbling over the hidden roots scattered across the forest in its feverish escape.

“What do you think is wrong with it?” I asked.

“I’m not sure if I want to find out.” Casey replied. His eyes betrayed his stoic voice.

I relent.

“C’mon, let’s head back.”

Not a few steps after we hoisted ourselves from the crouched position on the forest floor, Casey tripped. He fell face first into the mud and algae below us. It was funny at first, and I was grateful for the break in tone from what we had just seen. I had to stifle my laughter before helping him to his feet.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, as he worked himself from the mud. “Something bit me!”

Seeing no offending creature, I was slow to alarm.

“Show me where.”

He pulled his shirt collar to the side so I could get a better look at his neck. A welt was starting to form but no bite marks.

“It looks like you were stung, not bit. How bad does it hurt?”

He winced as he put his collar back into place.

“Quite a bit. It’s almost electric. Like someone’s got a 9 volt battery stuck to my neck and won’t let up.” After he said this, Casey hurried off towards our transport back to Blackthorn.

Not wanting to be left behind, and starting to get a little worried myself I started after him. But not before taking one more look where he fell. A small patch of fungi lay in the spot where he landed. Not the common mushroom you would think of. These were ascomycetes, or cup fungi. Maybe whatever it was had hidden amongst them?

The logs say it was only an hour and 36 minutes before we arrived, but it felt as if that ride took a lifetime. Casey’s condition worsened quickly. Pained grunts gave way to wails that became eerie silence. He had passed out before we arrived. I’m ashamed to admit it but I was relieved when he did. There’s only so much pain you can see your fellow man experience before your empathy wears out. I helped the drivers carry him to our medical center, explained what happened to the doctors there, and became very confused by one of their questions.

“Did you see any sort of fungi in the area?”

“Now that you mention it, yes. Cup fungi. Wynnella silvicola if I had to wager a guess. But they aren’t native to this area, and regardless they wouldn’t have done this to him. No fungus could have.” I said.

I was beginning to get upset. Why were they wasting time on these details?

“That’s just as I’ve feared. Your friend doesn’t have much time. We’ll do all we can for him, but don’t get your hopes up.” The doctor then swiftly took Casey away on a gurney. Barking orders as he went.

I was tired of this cloak and dagger bullshit. After Casey was taken back I left for my onsite quarters and began searching our database. I was hit with security clearance issues for every keyword I could think of. Cup fungi? Nothing. Wynnella? Nope. I tried on and on. Never finding anything useful. How could they expect us to do our jobs without ever telling us anything about what we were working around? Frustrated, I put in sick leave for the next 2 days. At least they’ll let us have that.

I never heard back from Casey. Nor did I hear through anyone else what had happened to him. I told myself he had quit. Decided this job was too much for him and left before he was in too deep. I continued to search periodically after each promotion I was granted. It wasn’t until years later that I had proper clearance to view enough information to draw conclusions.

That was Wynnella aculeatus. Colloquially known around the facility as “Stinghorns”. A not so clever play on the stinkhorns of the family Phelaceae. How I hadn’t heard of it throughout the years I’m not sure. When I ask folks about them now I get varied responses.

They appear not unlike their sister species Wynnella silvicola. They possess chestnut brown coloration that lightens into a cream color towards the base. A smooth main body that almost looks like a horse’s ear or a rolled up leaf. What differentiates them from other members of their genera, and any other fungus for that matter, is the specialized apothecium that covers the majority of the fruiting body. They are microscopic structures that release or forcefully eject the fungi’s spores into the environment. All ascomycetes have apothecium, but the stinghorns’ more so resemble the pneumatocysts of jellyfish. Having formed a hollow barb-like structure over top of the apothecium’s opening. Along with this structure they have also evolved to produce a toxin alongside their spores. This makes it so that when an animal brushes up against the fungus or attempts to eat it, the barbs will embed themselves within the skin and the apothecium will separate from the fruiting body. It is structured so that once separated, it will begin to contract and inject the cocktail of spores and toxins into the animal. To prevent overcrowding of a specific area, the stinghorn has developed a toxin that is not immediately lethal. Requiring 3 or 4 hours to fully incapacitate and kill its prey. I presume Casey lost consciousness so quickly due to the proximity of his sting to so many vital organs. The spores begin germination upon injection, and within a few days, a mycelial network will begin to form and decompose the prey. Using it as a large initial source of nutrients. Before reaching maturity, the stinghorn will remain usually harmless. Using nutrients sourced in ways more similar to Wynnella silvicola.

In some harrowing cases, a non-lethal dose of toxin has been observed to be delivered when the animal is too large or doesn’t brush against enough apothecium. In this case, the mycelial network begins to form before the animal dies, and consumes it from the inside out. Resulting in the animal appearing emaciated, stumbling, lacking fear, and a roughing/dulling of the coat. Eventually the animal will succumb to the massive internal trauma and perish. These animals specifically are more likely to wander outside of the endemic range of the stinghorns and towards human settlements. To handle this we are currently running disinformation campaigns explaining these symptoms as those of a prion disease.

Field agents who have unfortunately come into contact with this fungus are instructed to immediately self identify. How they expect this without telling the fresh recruits about them I do not know. But doing so would allow them to be effectively quarantined and studied in hopes of finding a way to counteract the toxins and render the spores inert. So far we have been able to abate the effects of the toxin, but most agents vehemently request termination after the mycelial network begins to form. Most late nights when sleep refuses me, this is what I imagine becoming of Casey if they were able to stabilize him in time. They usually describe the sensation as electric fence wire being slowly forced through their veins. Upon dissection of these unfortunate individuals it was confirmed that the mycelial network seems to prefer moving through the circulatory system.

It seems that the main factor keeping the stinghorn within its endemic area is mainly climate. Appalachia is home to small ecological locations known as mountain bogs. Mercifully it seems that the stinghorn is not able to properly reach maturity in any other environment. We are currently researching what factors are preventing this so that it can be implemented as an area denial weapon.

Casey’s death continues to haunt me. I could’ve done more for him. I should’ve done more. Although I can’t blame myself entirely. Blackthorn holds most of the blame in my heart. They had the tools we needed to keep ourselves safe and withheld vital information on the basis of clearances and bureaucracy. Not to mention, they aim to profit from the use of W. aculeatus as a weapon. That’s why I’ve chosen to come forward here. I’ll update later with more stories once I get a few accounts straight. My colleagues can be slightly eccentric from time to time.