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A disease called moss

A controversial new highway was to be driven through the winding hills in the east of the country. It was going to connect the local mountain town with the untouched sights in the hills and allow easy tourist access. In these mountains were caves, caverns, ancient rock paintings and long-dried underground rivers. Local legend said ancient gods lived in these sites. The traditional leaders warned that this development was unwise, but who would listen to superstitious old men and women in the twenty-first century; the age of the internet.

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As it turned out, the construction of the road was beset by uncountable mishaps; surveyors instruments malfunctioned inexplicably, bulldozers and graders stalled without reason, earthmoving trucks fell down the steep cliffs. There were numerous blasting accidents due to premature detonation, which the blasting engineers could not fully explain. Initial concern slowly turned to mild alarm. There was a measure of wonder, even among the educated technical project leaders, whether there was any possibility of some amount of truth in the legends. Rationality prevailed, the mishaps were dismissed as coincidence and the roadwork continued.

The strangest event occurred on the day of the official opening ceremony. At the exact moment that the ribbon was cut to officially open the road, a small brown mushroom on the edge of the road shoulder appeared to disintegrate and release a puff of green smoke. There was general sneezing and coughing which subsided quite quickly and the incident was forgotten. Unbeknown to all present, the hellish disease moss had just been born.

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In every attack, the disease caused itching in all the joints of the body. It was a terrible unceasing itch. In all cases the itching
started sometime between midnight and dawn. All victims reported waking up suddenly, with a searing itch. In all cases the itching ceased before noon, to be replaced by aching bones. In all cases the pain in the bones ended before sunset. All victims reported undisturbed sleep the ensuing night. This was the last night of good sleep any of the victims would have until they died. Those who reported the pain said it was like there was liquid fire in their bones - searing and unquenchable.

The morning after, each victim woke to the horror of an inexplicable body odour. It was a smell like that of freshly-ploughed earth. Within seven days the smell would gradually change into the smell of riverweeds - a wet smell like

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