The Third Eye

THE EVIL CHILD

The moon cast a pale glow over the darkened world as Martha ventured out for a late-night walk. The hushed stillness of the hour was soothing, providing a much-needed escape from the chaos of everyday life. With each step, her mind delved further into the labyrinth of her thoughts, searching for answers that seemed just out of reach.

Images flickered within her consciousness, drawing her back to a time long ago. Martha could vividly recall the day when she cradled a newborn baby in her arms. But what stood out in her memory was the serpent tattoo etched into the delicate skin of the child's back. It was a mark both intriguing and haunting, an enigma she could never forget.

As Martha meandered through the darkened streets, fragments of a recent encounter slipped into her mind like whispers carried on the night breeze. The visitors who had departed from her home mere moments ago, she remembered now, bore the same serpent tattoo upon their wrists. A jolt of recognition coursed through her, sending a shiver down her spine. A question emerged, piercing through her thoughts like an arrow: had the baby from her past survived?

The specter of doubt cast its shadow upon Martha's heart, planting the unsettling notion that the baby could have succumbed to darkness over the years. Could the innocent babe, once held so tenderly, have become tainted by malevolence? She wrestled with these thoughts, battling against the fear that threatened to consume her.

In the dark solitude of the night, Martha pondered the impossible. Could a child, just fifteen years in age, truly embody evil? She shook her head, dispelling the macabre notion as quickly as it had surfaced. "No," she whispered to herself, her voice carried away by the wind, "It cannot be. At that age, a child still holds the innocence of youth."

But even as Martha pushed aside the haunting thoughts, a realization dawned upon her. A thread connected her past and present, a thread woven with the ink of a serpent's mark. A flicker of understanding ignited within her, in the depths of her soul as she paused in her tracks. The truth, shimmering on the edge of her consciousness, demanded attention.

In a sudden surge of urgency, Martha's world transformed into a blur of motion. Without a second thought, she raced towards her mother's cottage.

As Martha reached her mother's quaint cottage, she noticed the soft glow of lamplight emanating from within. The air felt heavy with anticipation as she stepped through the front door, her eyes immediately falling upon her mother, hunched over in her favorite armchair, knitting needles clacking rhythmically. The sight made Martha's heart sink, for she knew her mother only turned to knitting when her mind was troubled.

"Mother," Zyra called out softly, her voice tinged with both concern and fear. "Did you feel it too?" she asked, her eyes searching for any sign of recognition in her mother's face. Evelyn, having grown up in a secretive camp of witches where they developed the unique ability to sniff out auras, remained silent, knotting the uncertainty in the air.

The silence spoke volumes to Zyra. Her mother's lack of response served as confirmation that she, too, had sensed the looming danger. A heavy weight settled on Zyra's heart as she continued to speak, her voice trembling slightly. "They came for Maya," Martha whispered, her voice laced with both fear and anger. Her mother let out a weary sigh, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. The weight of the truth settled upon Martha's shoulders, the realization that her daughter, sweet Maya, could be the target of dark forces beyond their control.

Anger boiled within Zyra's veins, fueled by the knowledge that her mother had foreseen this dark presence, this relentless pursuit of her beloved daughter. She accused her mother, her voice thick with sorrow and frustration, "You knew, didn't you? You knew that evil would come searching for Maya. That's why you suggested casting the blinding spell on her when she was born." The words hung heavily in the air, a testament to the deep-seated pain that had festered within Zyra's heart, unbeknownst to her all these years.

In the face of her daughter's justified anger, Evelyn slowly turned to face Zyra, the lines on her face deepening with sorrow. She held Zyra's gaze and offered a heartfelt apology, her voice laced with regret. "I am sorry, my dear Zyra. I never told you because I believed it was unnecessary. I believed we had eliminated the threat when we  killed the child with the serpent tattoo. You did get rid of the evil child, didn't you?"

Martha nodded, acknowledging her mother's words, but deep within her being, she knew the truth. She had never truly gotten rid of the evil child, the one marked with the serpent tattoo. Guilt gnawed at her soul, for she had always suspected that her actions did not lead to the desired outcome.

"then You have nothing to worry about.There is no threat to Maya."

Martha looked into her mother's caring eyes, her brows furrowed with confusion. "But if we had already gotten rid of the child, then why did we go ahead with the blinding spell?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Her mother exhaled softly, her hand gently resting on Martha's trembling shoulder. "The blinding spell was merely a precaution, my dear," she explained, her words measured and understanding. "We needed to protect Maya from anyone who might seek to use her for their own selfish gain. It was never about the evil child, but rather to shield Maya from harm."

* * * *

As Martha walked back home, guilt and fear flooded her heart. She felt a heavy weight settle within her chest, realizing that she had never truly gotten rid of the child like everyone believed. The truth gnawed at her conscience.

As she moved, her steps slow and heavy, her heart burdened with guilt. She couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at her, fearing the consequences her actions may have caused. The forest she had abandoned the child in seemed to loom ominously in her mind, a place of darkness and unknown fate.

Martha yearned for Maya's safety and she couldn't help but pray that the child she had left behind had met a quick and merciful end. If anything were to happen to Maya because of her actions, Martha knew she would carry the weight of that guilt for the rest of her life.