Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - You Didn’t See the Mushrooms A Hospital Horror Story I’ll Never Forget #36

Episode Date: July 14, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #hospitalhorror #medicalterror #unseenhorror #nightshiftfear #truehospitalstory  This gripping hospital horror story reveals a terrifying experience during a night shift, where something eerie and unsettling involving mysterious mushrooms changes everything. Filled with suspense and real-life fear, it explores the dark and often overlooked terrors lurking within sterile hospital walls—a haunting memory that refuses to fade.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, hospitalterror, medicalhorror, unseenfear, nightshiftstories, truehorror, creepyencounter, hauntedhospital, mysteriousevents, spinechilling, darksecrets, nightmareatwork, fearintheward, unexplainedphenomenon, eeriehospital

All right, here goes. Settle in, because what I'm about to tell you is probably the most messed up thing I've ever experienced in my years working night shifts at the hospital. I've had my share of weird nights, drunks throwing punches, hallucinating patients, people swallowing things they really shouldn't, but this one. This one sticks to my brain like mold on a wet sponge. So, it's about two in the morning, that witching hour where all the craziness comes out. We'd already had a night of BS, some dude panicked because of a mosquito bite and swore he had dengue. I was just sipping on my cold-ass coffee when we got the call, incoming ambulance with a female patient, mid-50s, non-responsive, obese. All right, no biggie, we've seen it all before, right?

Wrong. They will this woman in, and immediately it's like every sense in my body hit the emergency break. The smell. Dear God, I'm not exaggerating when I say it punched us in the face before she even crossed the threshold. You ever leave wet laundry in the machine too long. Multiply that by a hundred, and mix an infection in death. She's wrapped in what looks like every bath towel, bed sheet, and rag they owned. Sweat pouring down her face, eyes glazed over, barely moaning.

Her husband waddles in behind the stretcher, looking like he hadn't had a full, meal or a shower in years. Dude legit says she was walking just fine earlier. Must have slipped. I looked at my co-worker, trying not to raise an eyebrow. Bro. Be real. This woman could barely be lifted, let alone walk. She was huge. And I don't mean to be rude, but this was life-threatening level obesity. Her legs were like tree trunks, her belly was layered, and her arms looked like they hadn't moved freely in years. Anyway, we get her into a bed. She's non-verbal at this point. We start with vitals, labs, the works. Then in comes the daughter. Early 20s, same frame, same energy. She marches up like she's ready to fight us all. She's fine, she insists. We just want to take her to

our usual hospital. We've got a taxi coming. A taxi, a taxi, to take someone in this condition who couldn't sit upright, let alone fit through a cab door. She was septic. You didn't have to be a doctor to see it. I told her, as gently as I could, ma'am, your mother's really sick. She's not stable enough to be moved anywhere by taxi. She rolled her eyes like we were just being dramatic.

Meanwhile, we're running labs and the results start coming in. and they were absolutely horrifying. Her white blood cell count was through the roof, 32,000. That's like DefCon 1 in terms of infection. Her CRP-280, that's your body practically lighting itself on fire from inflammation. Her lactate levels were screaming, sepsis. Her kidneys were giving out. Her blood sugar was almost 400.

It was like every system in her body had given. up at the same time. At this point, we know we've got to stabilize her and transfer her to ICU. But first, we had to clean her up. And when I say, clean, I mean perform an archaeological dig. It took four of us just to roll her. We started peeling off those nasty towels. They were soaked. Some smelled like they'd never seen soap. The husband admitted later that they thought putting hot wet towels on her body was cleaning. No actual washing. No rinsing. Just steamed bacteria wrapped up like a burrito. And then we saw it. Her skin had folds within folds, and buried deep inside were these patches of fungal growth. Not just irritation. Actual fungus.

White, spongy, fuzzy patches. Mushrooms. Freakant mushrooms. Man. We'd only ever seen anything close in textbooks. One of the nurses gagged so hard she had to run out. I'm talking full dry heaves. We tried to stay professional, but holy hell. We were wiping her down with antiseptic gauze, trying to clean under the folds gently. That's when the screaming started. It wasn't like she was just in pain, it was something else entirely. She let out this low, rumbling growl that turned. into a scream. Not a scream you hear from a human. It was deep, guttural, almost like an animal, or worse, something demonic. Her eyes rolled back. She thrashed, twisted her neck, and yelled, don't touch me. I swear to God, I froze. I've worked on psychiatric wards. I've been screamed it by drug addicts. But this? This was different. One of the nurses whispered, Jesus Christ, and we all had chills. It felt like something was speaking through her. Eventually,

we sedated her enough to finish what we could. The ambulance from the main hospital showed up, and we gave them the whole run down. They didn't even ask questions, they just loaded her up and got out of there. That poor driver looked like he regretted his career choices. A few days later, we heard she didn't make it. Septic shock took her out in the ICU. It messed me up more than I expected. She didn't have to die like that. This wasn't some poor elderly person who lived alone. She had family.

A husband. A daughter. People who should have helped. But they were so deep in denial or ignorance, they let her rot. And that's the part that stuck with me. Her daughter, standing there, still saying, she was fine yesterday. Like her mom hadn't been dying by inches for months. Like fumble colonies growing in skin folds was normal.

I can't lie, I still think about her sometimes. Not just the horror of it, but the tragedy. The layers of human failure wrapped around that woman, from bad hygiene to medical neglect to systemic issues that made her family think what they were doing was okay. If you're reading this and still with me, I'll end with this, bathe. Check on your people. Don't wait until the ambulance is the only option. And for the love of all that's holy, don't think hot towels are a replacement for soap.

The smell stayed in my nose for days. I threw my scrubs out. The memory, though, still sharp as hell. And somewhere out there, the daughter probably still thinks we overreacted. But you weren't there. You didn't hear that voice. You didn't smell what we smelled. You didn't see the mushrooms.

So yeah, worst night ever. Stay clean, stay aware. And maybe, burn your towels every now and then. The end.