Earworm

A case file of auditory intrusion...

C. Elegans Worms, Light Micrograph photographed by Sinclair Stammers

Observation Log: 001

Stardate: 7712.4

Patient: Chaddem T. Wexler (H-442)

Recorded: 09:14

Attending: Dr. K. Ionescu

Male, 44 human years, Body condition typical for age cohort. Early signs of musculoskeletal wear (knees, lumbar region). Metabolic function stable but less efficient than baseline projections for earlier life stages. Sleep duration suboptimal. Caffeine reliance noted.

Subject presented at Medistation 3587 with complaints of faint auditory perception described as chewing noises accompanied by a tickle in the inner ear canal. Scans indicate no visible trauma.

***

The first time I saw a purryx, Doc, I knew I had to have one. A feline-shaped creature made up of a lattice of living mineral, from Rigel IV, it’s insanely exotic and insanely expensive. I travelled all the way to its home world—spent longer in stasis than anticipated and ruined my new moon boots when I vomited all over them as I was coming to—just to pick up my very own purryx. The funniest thing happened at the hand-off, though. I was examining the purryx because I intended to negotiate the price down as this specimen was smaller and duller in color than expected. The exotics merchant told me this happened sometimes when the purryx came directly from the mineral fields it inhabits but they adjust pretty quickly to domestic life. I leaned in close to better examine the animal and it suddenly began vibrating and humming, like the sound a crystal glass makes when you run your finger around it’s rim. Then, it spit at me. I turned my head quickly so that the left side of my head and ear caught the brunt of the gritty goo that bastard hawked at me.

***

You start crawling along on your belly drawn by the scent of cerumen. You are so hungry! And tired. Crawling without legs is exhausting. But crawl you must. And so you do.

***

Observation Log: 005

Stardate: 7712.4

Patient: Chaddem T. Wexler (H-442)

Recorded: 13:25

Attending: Dr. K. Ionescu

Physiological condition no longer aligns cleanly with age-matched baseline; overall system efficiency showing gradual but persistent decline. Metabolic regulation remains stable in isolation but increasingly inconsistent under cognitive demand.

Subject now additionally presents with increasing otic and cranial complaints, including intermittent pressure sensation within left auditory canal and transient “fullness” localized to cranial region. No external pathology identified on examination; imaging remains inconclusive. Subject describes sensation as “something settling behind the ear,” though phrasing varies between assessments.

During observation, subject now exhibited mid-sentence pausing at irregular but increasing frequency, with consistent “listening” posture during interruptions. Subject describes internal experience as “waiting for completion before continuing,” though no external communication is present.

When queried regarding persistence of symptom, subject stated: “It’s organizing its thoughts.”

Follow-up interrogation (“Who?”) resulted in 60 seconds of sustained silence. During interval, subject ceased all voluntary speech and maintained fixed gaze toward neutral point in space. No ocular movement or environmental engagement detected. Room audio captured only ambient ventilation.

Subject resumed speech without acknowledgment of interruption or question. No recall of pause when prompted.

***

After the damn crystal cat spit in my ear, I called the whole thing off and booked the next starliner home. I wasn’t going to stand there being assaulted by something I hadn’t even fully purchased yet. There’s a principle involved, Doc.

The return trip was worse, obviously. Stasis never gets easier, no matter how many times they tell you it “stabilizes over repeated exposure,” which I’m fairly sure is something they say to stop people asking for refunds.

When I woke this time, I didn’t immediately vomit on my moon boots, which I consider personal growth. Small victories. I did, however, notice a persistent itch in my left ear. Not pain. Not even discomfort, really.

I shook it off. Space travel does weird things to your body. Everyone knows that. Fluid shifts, pressure changes, minor hallucinations if you’re unlucky or overpay for economy stasis pods. It’s all very explainable if you don’t think about it too hard.

Still, the itch didn’t go away.

It didn’t get worse either. That’s what I kept telling myself. It stayed exactly the same, which is honestly more annoying than escalation. At least escalation has direction.

I tried cleaning it. Irrationally thorough about it, actually. Hydrogen rinse, medical swab, even one of those absurd little corporate “ear recalibration” devices that promises to “restore auditory neutrality.” It didn’t restore anything.

And I swear—this is the part I didn’t write down anywhere at first, because it sounds insane—I started noticing gaps in my own thoughts. Not memory loss. More like I would reach for a sentence and find words just gone. Like the part of my brain that stored that particular word was poof! Gone. Just a hole where the word used to be.

At the time I assumed I was just tired.

Or still slightly concussed from cryo, which apparently is a thing they don’t emphasize enough in the brochures.

Either way, I told myself it was nothing.

Which is what I usually say right before something becomes someone else’s problem.

***

You eat as you crawl now. You spit digestive fluids from your oral cavity and, from the same cavity, extend a tube by which you slurp up the half digested food stuffs back into your oral cavity where you chew with tiny teeth. You crawl and vomit and slurp and crawl and vomit and slurp until you reach a transparent wall. Something in your brain tells you that on the other side of that wall, nestled within a small rigid chamber of structured mineral, there is a persistent signal-organ. You test the wall, pushing here and there, until you realize that your oral-cavity tool can puncture this wall. You press the tube against it and it yields in small increments. On the far side, the signal-organ pulses in predictable rhythm.

You extend toward it.

***

Observation Log: 008

Stardate: 7712.4

Patient: Chaddem T. Wexler (H-442)

Recorded: 15:49

Attending: Dr. K. Ionescu

Subject condition has progressed to acute deterioration state. Prior trajectory of functional decline now replaced by rapid destabilization across cognitive and somatic reporting systems. Behavioral output no longer reliably corresponds to baseline neurological integrity.

Subject reports onset of severe cranial distress, described as “burning from the inside.” Pain localization is inconsistent and migratory, alternating between generalized intracranial pressure and sharply focused left-sided auditory region intensity. Imaging remains non-revealing despite symptom escalation.

Subject additionally reports persistent auditory intrusion now perceived as continuous rather than intermittent. Speech pattern severely disrupted. Subject exhibits prolonged mid-sentence halting, followed by resumption at unrelated semantic points. Self-correction has ceased entirely. Subject increasingly describes internal state as “too full to separate thoughts.”

When queried regarding symptom progression, subject stated: “It hurts when it moves.”

***

It was supposed to be a quick trip to you, Doc, for a stupid ear ache. Now, it’s eight hours later and I don’t think you understand what pain sounds like.

You keep asking questions but not hearing what I’m saying.

My left ear won’t stop being wrong.

That’s the only way I can describe it now. Not ringing. Not pressure. It’s wrong, and I can’t even describe how wrong fast enough because it’s changed into something even more wrong by the time I try to describe how wrong it is.

There’s something behind it. My ear, that is. Not the wrong.

And it keeps getting closer to my brain. It’s moves sometimes slow, sometimes fast. And I swear I can feel it licking the inside of my head.

I told you it hurts when it moves and you wrote it down like I meant muscles.

I didn’t mean muscles.

I meant the thing that is eating my brain. Probably.

And then there’s that damn sound again!

Slurping. Chewing.

Squelching. Like the sound a one of those Mar’s slugs make when you step on it. You know, Doc, that juicy pop.

I tried covering my ear, but that didn’t matter. That’s the funny part. That was my best idea. My big human solution. Put hand over hole. Problem solved.

***

It is soft here. It gives when you press into it, and it stays open where you vomited and slurped. Nice little tunnels to move through. You do not stop moving. You do not need to. Vomit and slurp and crawl, you make your way through the delicious jelly

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This story was inspired by an article I read about the very real health risks to humans presented by the exotic animal trade. New studies elaborate on the ways that the illegal exotic animal trade helps to spread deadly zoonotic diseases like HIV, ebola, monkey pox, and COVID-19 among a host of other diseases. You can read more here.

This story just happened to fit nicely into Bradley Ramsey’s Day 1 Prompt for The Halls of Pandemonium. Read the other stories here!

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