Those Eyes

"I remember it," she muttered, mostly to herself. Her head was still a stormy riot. God knows what sedatives she had been given. "I remember it. Like it was yesterday. Those words..."

"Especially given the fact that I don't remember yesterday, or the day before," Stacy added. "I didn't say stop, by the way. Off with those clothes. Come on, I don't have all day! I mean I do remember yesterday, but not really. I remember it, though. Not yesterday, you'll remember, but those words. LIKE it was yesterday."

"Right," Alejandra, now halfway undressed and thoroughly confused, chimed in. "Um...what words?"

Vultures surveyed the frenzied forms and filleted torsos all interlacing and splayed forth as a banquet - picking morsels from the torsos of the corpses of the poor souls who she'd locked eyes with before. Her eyes. Red fireballs. This was no metaphor. This chick was pure, batshit crazy, and Alejandra knew it.

"I'm shooting straight here, Stacy," she said barely above a nervous whisper. "I have answers. Answers you seek. But you gotta work with me. We're on the same team, girl."

1. Wait. Wait one second! What words was she talking about!? Whose words? What words? She remembers them, obviously. So what are they!?!?
2. Trust no one. This was the only instinct that seemed to be keeping her alive right now. Using some improvised materials, she tied Alejandra up and gagged her, leaving her in the bathroom.
3. Against her better judgement, she decided to trust the little latina...
4. Suddenly!

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