A new body dropped into the pile and Sarah flinched. Somehow, the tentacles had opened an access hole above the cavern across the hall. The tentacles hung through the void like giant cow udders, gravid and gooey. She was horrified, yet unable to turn away. A second tentacle dilated and spit. And Sarah recoiled once more as another gaunt body fell into the pile with a thick splat.
Then another…and another…
Steaming and spindly and semi-conscious, bodies fell wetly from the dangling pseudopods like farm fresh fetuses. Sarah noticed that each dropped with mouth agape, jaw rocking. At first she thought it was an attempt to scream, but no, this was something else. She recognized it somehow, but struggled to link the action with cause. She swept her brainpan, dredging the clues. And then it came, with the suddenness of a stroke, the clues clotting in code blue revelation—the subtle smile, the stoner slit eyes, the mandibles that waggled hungrily, despite the severe periodontal rot most of them suffered—it all added up. Geez, she breathed. She now knew what they were doing.
…they were suckling.