The stinkhorn’s story starts in its “witch’s egg” stage — a pale, rubbery orb that sits partly buried beneath leaves or soil. Even seasoned mushroom hunters sometimes stop and stare at it, unsure whether they’re looking at a fungus or some mysterious biological pod from a sci-fi film. Inside the egg is a gelatinous layer protecting a tightly folded structure that will soon unfold into the mature mushroom.

And the transformation happens quickly. Sometimes in a single night, the egg splits open, and a tall, sponge-textured stalk pushes upward with astonishing speed. Stinkhorns are among the fastest-growing fungi known, capable of emerging several inches in mere hours. Because of this sudden appearance, people often discover them only after they’ve dramatically burst from the ground — adding to their eerie reputation.

The Notorious Smell
But the sight of a stinkhorn is only half the experience. Once mature, it releases a powerful odor often compared to rotting flesh or decaying material. This isn’t a flaw — it’s strategy. Unlike mushrooms that rely on the wind to scatter their spores, stinkhorns rely on insects. Their slimy cap, called the gleba, contains both spores and the unmistakable scent. Flies and beetles, drawn to what they assume is food or decay, land on the cap and unknowingly carry spores with them as they fly away — a clever, if pungent, reproductive method.