Work Text:
Another Wasteland Study
A paper with handwritten annotations in the margins, found within a desk.
The fungi, as we know it, has spread rapidly. Through contact with the skin of their human and animal carriers it has quickly found more hosts. We know of the symptoms that commonly present themselves amongst the infected; ranging from mild disorientation to the infected entering severe comas that wrack their bodies with torment. What we know about this epidemic is greatly outmatched by that which we have yet to discover. However, something that we have recently observed has greatly opened the doors to that vast unknown.
Our lab at the Miskatonic Shelter has been introduced to an extraordinary case. An individual who would, under most circumstances, be considered as a severe case of infection. The patient has demonstrated an incredible resistance to the most extreme symptoms that are usually present at an infection of his level. The demonstration of this resistance is a thrilling discovery, as it lends itself to strengthening my prior belief that humanity can recover from this outbreak despite how overwhelming it may appear to be. Perhaps it may even be tamed like some of the other fungi that have historically been used to the benefit of humanity.¹ I have enthusiastically begun to collaborate with a member of our search and rescue team, as she has a vested interest in this patient’s recovery. Her prior insights into the patient’s health before the mycosis developed has provided a unique background as to how the infection develops and affects its hosts.
1. I say “tamed" in this instance as these fungal specimens display sentience in a much more observable way than the other common fungal species that we are aware of. This species is very active with acute motor activity that is capable of feats of athleticism such as crawling, walking, and jumping. They are able to move on tentacle-like appendages, and have the ability to grapple onto things with venous, sticky tendrils. These tendrils are able to extend rapidly in a manner similar to how a frog’s tongue does. This grappling leads to many cases of infections, as it is a quick and unexpected movement that allows the fungus to get close enough to spread its spores, and the dexterity to be able to overtake protective equipment such as goggles and masks. The fungus itself displays intelligence capable enough to seduce victims with a feigned innocence, waiting for the guard of its prey to be dropped before striking. However, much like animals, it displays avoidance towards sudden violent threats. It has been commonly observed that these fungi retreat when threatened. The possibilities that a species of fungi that shows this level of sentience could hold for the future of humanity is very compelling.
I believe that the relationship between the patient and the leading member of the search and rescue team is pivotal in the strength of the patient's resistance to the onset of symptoms. It was reported by the team that they had “...found the infected man in the ruins of the wasteland. He looked to be past the point of recovery. However, when the search and rescue captain approached him, he became responsive. The more that she spoke to him, the more he seemed to be moved from his stupor” (Diruse 21XX). It is difficult to say whether it is the deep bond between the two of them that tethers the patient to a will to survive, or if it is the nature of their relationship itself that keeps the patient from losing himself to the wakeless dreams of the infection. As convenient as it would be to say that the minutia of difference doesn’t matter, in a matter of precision it does, and it could save many other lives if only we could find the heart of the matter and understand it.
Perhaps the key to that question, in part, lies within the mycelia itself–or lack thereof. As we know, this fungal strain is a living being that has a network of communication, as fungi often does. We have found that when exposed to places where the arts have flourished in the past, many of the infected patients see their conditions either worsen, or go into a period of stagnation before then entering a state of rapid progression. This trend has struck me and the others at our facility as notable, as it seems largely disconnected from any prior study of any fungus that I have been able to find. I have attempted to simulate similar artistic environments in a laboratory setting where our fungal specimens can react under strict observation–and the discovery that it led to intrigues me.
I had come up with the experiment based off of theories that were derived from Professor Diruse’s and Mr. Kreiburg’s reports. Diruse had noted in many of his reports that the worst of the infections seem to manifest in places where the arts had once thrived–galleries, college theatres, performance halls, even places such as churches. The captain’s own reports support Diruse’s observations, thus the idea for the experiment sprung forth. There was likely something in these areas that greatly stimulated the growth of the fungi.
We tried visual arts first, taking color theory into mind. Within the experimental chambers where we had moved some of the fungal specimens we changed the colors of the lights first, witnessing how they reacted to color. Results of this test were generally inconclusive. We then set up the chambers to have large paintings displayed on the walls–both paintings that were done by hand, and replicated prints. The results here yielded more interesting results. While the replicas of masterwork paintings from years long past seemed to stimulate the fungi, it was the paintings that we created at the Miskatonic Shelter that caused the fungi to display more activity. We hypothesize that perhaps it is a combination of light reactivity and their compatibility with the chemical components found within paints.
Observation of the fungi while the specimens were exposed to pieces of visual art yielded mild results. While it seemed that the fungi reacted well under these conditions it was under the influence of music the specimens thrived.² The specimens became more active, demonstrating rapid growth in comparison to their growth inside of the sterile lab chambers, as well as an increase in their own physical activity. Our discovery in isolating this stimulant has led me to further investigate this phenomena. Within the lab I have been working alongside our research captain observing the frequencies to which the fungi react the most dramatically. Before the infestation our captain was a musician, so he has taken a particular interest in this avenue of our research. His insights have been surprisingly well read in understanding the nuance of the study of acoustics, but even he seemed shocked when the specimens sprung to life upon hearing (or perhaps, feeling) the vibrations of the music that we had played in the lab.
2. The formal language of this paper does not allow for me to properly illustrate just how novel this scene was. Everyone in the research division of the lab has read the studies of mushrooms of the past occasionally growing more rapidly when exposed to the low vibrational frequencies known as infrasound, so we did not figure that we would be surprised if this species demonstrated something similar. But it was in the manner of their reaction that left us so shocked. The fungi's reaction was not gradual as we had all prepared ourselves to see, rather, it was a frenzy. They recognized the change in their environment near instantaneously. The closer we would bring the frequencies to the infrasonic range, the more alive they would seem, seeming to listen with an intent that appeared eerily sentient. But there was a beauty in this spectacle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a frequency that could placate the things. While Dr. Mesmer spoke about her own speculations, Mr. Kreiburg hardly spoke a word. A trait of his. Instead he busied himself with the machines, monitoring the frequencies of the room and the output into the experimental chambers. When he finally called us over we were astonished to find that the frequencies had been amplified within the chamber without our meddling. I don’t know what overcame me , but I threw the switch, turning off the machine that generated the original frequency output. I still wonder what might have happened had I not interfered with the experiment by cutting it short–but the dread brewing in the room was becoming too much and I fear what it could have led to.
Our search and rescue captain, Dr. Mesmer–who was a former psychologist–brought up the behavioural effects of infrasonic waves on humans as we conducted our experiments. She stated that historically, prolonged exposure to these frequencies were observed to cause feelings of unease. Some cases went so far as to convince people that they were experiencing paranormal phenomena. We all discussed how this might help to explain the feelings of impending doom that surround sites that are highly infested by the fungi. Of course, much of that despair lay within the grim reality of the atrocity that we face, but the feeling at those places burrows much deeper within one's psyche than just that.
The experiment came to a premature end as the power to the equipment was disrupted. The obstruction of more conclusive results is disappointing, however, the data that we were able to retrieve is invaluable to our study. This is not the only fungal strain that exhibits a fondness for sound. We were aware that many fungal species react positively to sounds that fall into the range of vibrations known as infrasound; previous studies have shown that exposure to infrasonic waves expedites growth within those fungal cultures. However, in this case we have discovered that while this strain is reactive to the vibrations found in their environment, they also amplify the frequencies within this range of sound. There are many points of significance regarding this discovery. Of course, the most apparent is that due to the fungi’s reactivity towards these low frequencies and their ability to enhance them, it provides them with a self-sustainable promotion of rapid growth. This provides us an insight as to how the fungal growth has been able to spread so rapidly, as this discovery suggests that due to these attributes, their numbers may be able to grow exponentially.³
3. Bioacoustics is known to occur in a number of plants, and though it is important to note that fungi are not plants, I’ve looked into this phenomena as well. Plants have demonstrated the ability to both react to the vibrations in their environments, as well as produce frequencies outside the range of human hearing within the ultrasonic range in order to communicate. It should also be noted that fungi also are able to communicate through their own mycelial networks–but more on that later. What I mean to consider when it comes to bioacoustics in plants is that it has been observed that some plants are able to respond to specific frequencies that match those of their pollinators–increasing the lure and effectiveness of their pollination. It seems absurd to speculate on this, but I can’t help but wonder if the fungi use music in a similar manner, luring human carriers in with something so important to our sense of expression.
So what then of parasitic fungus? We know of fungi that infect insects that then affect the behaviours of their hosts. These infections are believed to start when the spore of the fungus penetrates the exoskeleton of its chosen hosts, where it then affects the nervous system of its victims, puppetting them into situations that best suits the fungus’ reproduction. These fungi do not affect the brain of its host, and it doesn’t aim to devastate entire species. There is a delicate balance that is maintained. The thought seems like pure science-fiction, but is it possible that this species of fungi has evolved to puppeteer us in this way? We have yet to see the full effects of an infection past those who enter the dreamful comas. Clearly more data must be collected. So much of this remains a mystery, and no matter what we do and what theories we have invented, the fungi seems to surprise us.
An equally important discovery found through these tests was the presence of a pervasive infrasonic drone in our environment. At first, this was suspected to be due to the fungi emitting infrasonic frequencies, as this drone has not been catalogued since before the disaster occurred. However, with further testing within our lab, we have discovered that the fungi are unable to produce any sound of their own. They are only instruments of amplification, which begs the question as to where the original source of the sounds is. It is known that some man-made structures emit these frequencies, as do some animals, however we here at the Miskatonic Shelter have ruled this as an unlikely source. The animals that utilize such frequencies are not common within our region, thus we find it unlikely that we can look to them as the origin of this consistent drone. Many of the man-made structures that emitted such frequencies have since halted operations after the spread of the outbreak, and others, such as our laboratory facilities, still register the background drone underneath their own. We have not completely ruled out that perhaps the droning is a result of the fungi creating feedback from an original source of the frequency before the height of the infestation, but we do not believe that this theory holds much ground.⁴ Rather, we believe that there has been, and continues to be a consistent source of a frequency within a “golden zone” of cultivation for this specific strain of fungus.
As it stands, our organization needs to procure more data in order to come to a stronger understanding of what we are being faced with. Our research has made a great deal of progress from what we started with, which is encouraging. With the development of our current understanding, our facility can now pivot to more focused studies of what has been revealed to us. It is the opinion of the mycology department that more great strides can be made in our understanding of the fungal species that has surrounded us if we are given the approval to continue our studies, and granted the proper resources to do so. The mycology department suggests the following actions: the collection of more specimens from the wasteland, an expanded study and collection of data on the infrasonic frequencies found within the wasteland, and the continued observation of the unique patient and his condition–and the supplying of the appropriate resources from the Miskatonic Shelter in order to fund this continued research.
Qi Shiyi
Head of the Department of Mycology
4. To believe that the fungi has been echoing the same frequency since either before the height of the infestation or very soon thereafter is hard to believe. It is not impossible, but to have the whole species passing the same drone back and forth and only now being observed in our lab seems unlikely.
Another possibility is that we are witnessing some deviation of a typical mycelial network. In a typical mycelial network we witness fungi communicate with its environment via hyphae with an assortment of chemical and electrical emissions that serve as their language. It has yet to be recorded that this exists in a form of acoustics, however, due to the effect of sound on fungi it is not outside of the realm of possibility that it is a discoverable occurrence. Usually in mycelial networks we observe that there is a focal point that is vastly important called a “hub tree”--a tree whose roots delve deep into the earth and provide the system with a vast connection of resources and area. Perhaps then this species’ “hub tree” is something capable of emitting the infrasonic waves that these fungi tune into, much like a radio receiver in order to receive information they would receive through mycelial connections.
Entries from a journal found in the wasteland.
We’ve finally made it out of the shelter. I had started to wonder if we ever would. After our research captain agreed to my proposal he made it very clear that he would hand pick people from the shelter to form the venturing research team. Enthusiastic as he may have seemed about the prospect, he took his time. Nevertheless, I am glad we have made progress. Though, I will admit that the team that he selected has me a bit concerned.
I hold my colleagues in high-regard, and I do not doubt their proficiency and expertise in their fields. However, it has become noticeable that everyone at the shelter has become less pragmatic as of late. Perhaps his lack of timeliness was due to this fact, yet I am not confident in his decisions. He knows how to make his reasoning seem sound. I can’t deny that there is precious information that can be collected by bringing along one of the infected patients, especially the one that has been doing so well–but I can’t help but feel that it is reckless. The patient was eager to join us, in truth, I don’t think we would have been able to leave the shelter without him. The search and rescue captain is joining us and the two have been joined at the hip ever since they have reunited. She has elected herself to lead the study of his case, and I suppose I understand. When someone has someone to care about out here, why would they let them go? Distance between loved ones in this place is an agonizing state of unknowingness, a feeling I don’t wish upon anyone.
I too have given in to my own hazardous desires. I am aware that bringing along one of the fungal specimens poses its own particular set of dangers, but it is undeniable that having one with us will provide valuable insights in how the species deals with certain triggers. The specimen that I have hand-picked to bring with us has proven through its stay to be one of the most docile that we have collected, my hopes and fears balance on it’s nature being not too far from it’s kin, but that it continues to remain as predictable as it has up until this point. It’s a risk, but one that I believe must be taken in order to further our understanding of those around us. A risk that could be a key to us rebuilding the world around us. It must be done. Mr. Kreiburg, the head researcher of our outfit, was easily enough convinced with my own convictions. He was keen on the suggestion when I brought it up to him. I found that we shared many similar thoughts on the importance of bringing along such a risk, and I now cannot help but feel that the others in our expedition likely made similar pleas to him.
We are looking to travel further into the wastelands. We have made a decent amount of progress travelling further from the Miskatonic Shelter. The environment remains as desolate and sad as I remember it to have been–the skeletons of a place that once flourished with life. Human life. People laughing, families cherishing their time spent among one another, lovers embracing each other having found something even more precious than a home. Now the vast cities lay desolate and empty. The human life that might remain hides away, hoping to stave off whatever the infestation may bring. I remind myself that there is happiness still surviving within the dread of this place, the patient and seeing the search and rescue captain together reminds me of this. I can only hope that our research is able to help more people be able to live in a way that allows them to find this happiness again.
Today our survey took us to a cathedral in what used to be the heart of a large city. It was a difficult trek to make our way there, as the infestation had–as we suspected–found itself quite at home. The spires of the building stood against the dark sky–I still do not know if I found comfort in those magnificent columns of stone or not. The historical architecture, the elegantly carved stone of the past served as some sort of reminder of how things used to be, but it was equally a reminder of how things have become. The looming building with its dark and worn stone was anything but welcoming, as the foundation was rife with the fungal infestation, though they lay mostly dormant. I was thankful for Dr. Mesmer’s hesitation, something that made me feel less alone as Mr. Kreiburg led us through those imposing wooden doors.
I was surprised to find that the fungi seemed not to penetrate the cathedral. The old place lay in ruin, but not by any fault of the infestation. Crumbling brick, overturned pews, and scattered trash; all things present were signs of human tampering, with not a single specimen in sight other than our own. It was a wonder, and I still do not trust that they simply were not hiding away from our sight. That ever pervasive feeling of dread seemed to be the backdrop of the place. I couldn’t help but feel like I was constantly being watched. I watched as the others would occasionally look over their shoulder at seemingly nothing in the rafters, or in the shadows cast in the corners of the building, and I figured they too felt the same. The unrest from feeling watched by some invisible spy paled in comparison to Mr. Kreiburg touching that organ.
The organ had to be hundreds of years old, a beautiful, shining thing back in its time, I imagine. Now, left alone in this place, it was a haunting and overbearing thing that towered in the back with its mess of pipes and dizzying geometric designs. I hadn’t seen him approach the organ. It was the roaring thrum of the instrument that ripped my attention from the rest of the cathedral with a start. Many things happened all at once. I recall Dr. Mesmer grabbing Emil, who let out a startled yelp. The specimen that I carry bounded in it’s glass container excitedly, causing me to almost drop it out of surprise. My own heart lurched at the sudden massive sound that swelled through the towering cathedral. I felt the sonorous roar of the organ resonate so deeply within me, feeling as though my body held vast worlds that lay undiscovered, and for a moment I felt as though I could nearly steal a glance at them. But there he stood at the keys of the organ, playing masterfully and blind to the rest of us standing behind him. It was later, when I spoke to Professor Diruse, that I had found he had seen Mr. Kreiburg approach the instrument. “Keeping an eye on him,” he said. He stated that he was also curious as to what the organ would do, and figured that he would let Mr. Kreiburg satiate their curiosities. Although I understand the empirical use of their curiosities, I wish that those grand pipes remained untouched for an oppressive sense of unease has not left me since their playing. As much as I have tried to rationalize it away, it has been unshakable. I hope that maybe with some rest I will find myself in a better state.
I awoke from a dream last night covered in sweat. It was of that organ. I cannot recall much of the dream itself other than that organ, standing there in its grandeur–however, now it was covered in twisting vines. I do not know how I knew that it was the very same organ, as the focus was on a small colony of ants and their small, writhing bodies. They all marched towards one of the vines that was creeping around a pipe. Their march was dutiful, yet almost drunken–giving the feeling that something was just not right. Even now the memory causes me distress. Yet they carried on towards these leaves, and when they arrived unceremoniously they all took hold of the foliage in their small, piercing jaws and simply stayed there, unmoving. I woke to remember nothing more, and I feel as though I didn’t have to in order to know what was to come. It seems that the events of the day still haunt me.
Today we made our way out into a section of the wasteland that lay nearby the large crater. It was here that we had set up our camp for the day where we investigated the area. I was in charge of examining the soil of the area, a study that I had proposed. I figured that if I were able to discover any trace of an unfamiliar mycelial network, that we would be able to learn more about how the fungi communicated as effectively as they did.
Everyone busied themselves with their own tasks, and I moved myself to a location that I believed might yield fruitful results. Here I set up my station with all its equipment and began the process. Hardly any time had passed at all before I began to observe hyphae within the soil, the foreign bodies twisting themselves among those we had so commonly observed before. Noting my observations, I continued with my dig. Everything seemed to be in line with what previous data would tell us to expect. But then I unearthed the thing. At first I thought it simply to be a worm with its pulsating, slimy body nestled into the earth. The tendril was a sickening white and about as thick as a small coin, and on occasion would secrete a viscous black fluid. The sight of it alone was nauseating. The hyphae drew towards it like metal shavings to a magnet, small, overwhelming, and drawing some sort of pattern. I knew this thing was to be a part of their network. Quickly I buried the thing again, taking no time to draw out diagrams as I usually would. I have yet to admit my findings with the rest of the team.
We are currently preparing to set out towards a cave that Professor Diruse had found nearby. It is a seemingly unsuspecting thing, though it has been noted to host a fair sized colony of the fungi within. The camp is anxious to get moving. Our primary goal is to simply survey the cave and what it holds since it is located so close to the crater, but it seems to be a silent agreement amongst everyone that we know the survey will hold more than what could be expected. I have shared a bit of my most recent findings with the group in preparation, but it hasn’t deterred any of us. Rather, it has stoked our curiosity and pushes us further into our convictions. It feels as though we are on the cusp of a major breakthrough, and everyone is prepared to fully commit to the investigation. We do not know what we will find, but I am hopeful that it will be a great step in our understanding of the infestation that surrounds us.