Free The Eye Unseen by Cynthia Tottleben

the slight jingle of the silver bands offering comfort as I stood noiselessly, afraid she would yank out my eyes and gorge on them while my mother stood by and watched.
    I listened to their conversations. She had maps and charts and old journals passed down from so many generations that I could barely see the script still on the page. Yet Aunt Evelyn could not only see the ink but translate each from the original language. Her intelligence amazed me. Her words terrified me.
    The last time we visited she had spelled it out quite clearly, but none of us heeded her warning. Even after they carried her lifeless body from the room.
    “Sixty years have passed since the last sighting,” she reminded my mother as she wrapped her boney hands around a mug of hot tea.
    “That’s good, then. The longer the better.” Mom hated these conversations with Evelyn.
    “No, it’s not good!” My great-aunt pounded her fist on the table, the silverware jumping upon impact. “One is upon us! I can feel her! I can feel her in this room, clawing to be free!”
    Grandma silenced her sister. With one firm hand upon her shoulder, she politely told Evelyn to calm down.
    Aunt Evelyn moved her gaze toward me. I clung to my mother. Wrapped my arms around her stomach and held on as tightly as I could.
    “She’s in you, child.” Her pointed finger forced me to burrow my face into mother’s side. “She taunts me. I have followed her through time. The wench knows who I am! I can smell her even when she’s not of this earth. I saw her once, in Spain, and who won that time?” Evelyn raised her eyes heavenward, pointing at God. “Who was left standing?”
    “That’s enough, Evelyn. Quiet down.” Grandma hovered by her sister’s chair.
    When Evelyn shot out of her seat the room took a collective gasp. I felt Mom’s hands wrap around me protectively.
    “I wear her blood on my hands! I was the victor! I took the eye and pulverized it, let the flames take the damned thing back to Hell where it belonged!” Evelyn lifted her fists in the air, as though she were scorning God Himself.
    “We know, honey. You have fought this thing for decades.” Grandma patted Evelyn’s shoulder, her tone condescending. Behind her sister’s back, Grandma rolled her eyes and shook her head.
    “You know nothing. Don’t even pretend to understand. The year is coming. Does no one care anymore? The year is coming!”
    Grandma eased Aunt Evelyn’s hands down. Both women looked drained.
    “Evie, we all care. But sometimes when you work so hard on a project you get blinded by it.”
    “Mom, what’s she talking about? What year?”
    My great-aunt reared her head again, her torment twisting her features until she resembled a vicious dog on the brink of attack.
    “Have you not told her? How could you be so insane!” The fist landed on a plate this time, shattering it. “The year 2000, prophesied as the Year of the Woman. The millennial change in seats above and below. When She assumes the role for which She was destined.”
    I had no idea what Evelyn meant, but dread settled in my stomach. A deep and somber ache with tendrils reaching into my adulthood.
    “The bitch has been chasing her dream for centuries. I’ve seen what She’s done! I’ve stood on the same ground where She let loose her horror and could smell the blood, fresh as the day She unleashed it upon the soil. I’ve watched it drip from her teeth while She gave me her maddening grin. Babies, dead at her feet. The world behind her, burning. Satan is nothing compared to her. If we don’t stop her, She’ll destroy humanity!”
    “Mom, I’m scared,” I whispered, practically crawling into my mother’s lap.
     “As you should be,” Evelyn screamed. “She will rise from you. From your womb the witch will come!”
    “Stop this!” Mother stood. “Mom, can’t you shut her up?”
    “We have to stop her! We have to end this now!”
    I moved behind Mom as Evelyn grabbed her arm.
    “I have no idea