We call ’em fruit flies, you see, because they like the taste of sweet things. Lollies, sugar water, rotten fruit. They’ll just sit there and suck on it ’til it’s gone rather than come after you. Why, I can’t say. I guess the taste must be one of the few pleasant sensations left to them, or maybe it reminds them of what they’ve lost. But it can’t last forever; sooner or later, the tongue rots right out and then sweets are no good at placating them anymore. When that happens, they’re just more dead on a recruitment drive.

I knew a guy once, out by the Rift, who used to boil hard candy in his free time. He’d feed it to the fruit flies that swarmed his place until they were practically like pets, eating out of his hand. They must have all caught the rot around the same time, though, because those dead had their tongues rot out all within a day of each other. They ate that guy alive, nothing left but his metal buttons and false teeth.

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