It all started with a headache.

A dull throb beating like a drum in her temples, a ripple of static buzzing in her ears with each beat of her heart. The world went blurry in the face of this ache, and each color she tried to focus on seemed to bleed into the next. The world was smeared with angry, muddy hues as her head split in two.

The dizziness and the nausea set in soon after, and she could've sworn she heard something slimy creeping closer, a tickle in her ear.

That’s when she saw it. A small red and white cap peeking through the seams of the carpet, almost too small to notice. With each rush of pain that flowed through her head, she could’ve sworn it grew by just a bit.

Her skin went cold as she stared at it. It stared back.

The situation was absurd, sure, but she couldn’t find a trace of laughter in her chest. The more she stared, the faster her heart beat. The faster her heart beat, the worse her head ached. The world began to sway in time with her pounding temples.

She couldn’t bear to look at the mushroom any more.

Once the first mushroom was found, more began to make their appearance. At night, she choked on clouds of spores that gathered above her bed, fine as sand as they collected in her cup of water. During the day, she would trip over them as she left her bedroom. The infestation spread from room to room, fungi gnawing at her headboard until it crumbled and creaked when she lay down. Sawdust mixed with spores when she tried to sleep. Her mouth was coated in powder.

The couch wasn’t any better, and the floor was smothered in red and white pox. Tucked away in the fridge, brown mushrooms sprung on everything edible in sight. The house was in a state of decay.

Nowhere was safe.

The pain grew with each day. She would have left her house if it wasn’t for the rotting doorknob and the ache in her skull. She could barely see straight, resigning herself to the couch to breathe in the spores. The floor reached out with open, knobby arms. Waiting for her to fall.

Something pushed against her skin from the hollow of her chest. She left herself to its prodding, eyes rolling back with each thud in her temples.

The case made the local headlines before petering out. Nobody knew what to make of the scene: a corpse rotting in her couch, an unlocked door. Pristine walls and floors, a refrigerator filled with food. Beside her bed, a cool glass of water. Yet still, the corpse decayed.

There was no explanation besides a small mushroom peeking out of the body’s ear, red and white cap pulsing every two seconds.