Page 1 of Unravelling The Beast

Istep out of my car, my head thumping with an unbearable pain I haven't been able to shake the entire drive home. I slam the door shut behind me before slugging toward the front door to my mansion, pressing my hand deep into my pants pocket to find my phone and key.

Retrieving my phone first, I peer down at the lit-up screen, my vision still somewhat hazy, to check if my wife, Bridget, has answered the text I sent her before traveling here after randomly falling asleep in my office last night.

I'm thinking she's mad at me because I went out drinking and didn't come home, but there have been no call attempts from her, even last night, which is fucking unusual for her.

I come to a standstill at the door and, with my key in hand, I slide it into the lock before turning it. When I discover I'm not hearing the click, I realize it's already unlocked. My brow furrows as I press down on the handle and push the door open.

As soon as I walk in, I hear my newborn son, Cree, screaming at the top of his lungs from upstairs in the distance. Panic surges through me, followed by an overwhelming sense that something is wrong.

I rush towards the large staircase case before sprinting up it, taking two steps at a time. As soon as I enter the corridor, I take long strides toward Cree's cry, the unsettling shriek drowning out the sound of the racing pulse in my ears.

Before entering his nursery, I draw my gun from the back of my pants and hold it beside me. As soon as I stroll in, I spot him kicking around in the crib and proceed toward him. I come to a halt beside him and notice his face is beet red from all the screaming, and his fists and legs are screwed up tightly.

I lift his pacifier and place it on his lips, where he instantly latches, clearly hungry. I keep it there, hush him until he calms down, and when he does, I attempt to yell out for my wife, unsure where she is.

“Bridge!?”

When I don't get a response, I turn around, but as soon as I notice Cree's built-in closet door slightly ajar with blood on it, my heartbeat slows entirely.

I freeze, dread coursing through my veins, making them cold, until I urge myself to move, and when I do, I walk rapidly. I hurry toward the door, swing it open, and my gaze falls on her, wrapped in rope with a gag in her mouth, sitting on the floor and resting against the wall below the garments.

I collapse to my knees in front of her, a gunshot wound in her forehead, her crystal blue gaze now dull. My wide eyes well up with tears as they scan her frantically, unable to comprehend what they are seeing.

I crawl forward, weeping, before throwing my trembling body around her and dragging her closer to me. I cradle my dead wife tightly, rocking her back and forth while screaming out in despair.

The first time I heard the phrase "The Big Apple," I used to think that it meant that New York was full of possibilities and ambitions, but it turns out that's not the case in my situation. I mean, how difficult is it to find a permanent nanny position in a city known to house business-minded families who will most likely require a live-in nanny to watch over their children?

I recently moved here in support of my parents and my eighteen year old sister, Lily, since she had been in a lot of trouble back in California, and she's begun failing school. My parents decided that moving her to a different state and school would keep her away from the troublesome teens she was hanging out with.

When the cops came to my parents' house, they claimed Lil was a witness in a grand theft auto investigation. Luckily, with my dad having a friend in the police force and a lack of evidence, the case was dropped, but my mom finally had enough and put the house up for sale the following week.

As a single woman and unemployed nanny, I decided to hop on the ride and relocate as well since I’ve always wanted to visit NYC, and here I am living the dream! Yeah, right. Since moving here, I haven't found a single steady nanny job. I mean, I've worked odd jobs from time to time. I babysat one child for a few weeks and another for a few days while their parents were elsewhere on business, but nothing permanent or live-in, as I'd hoped for.

Ah, well, I guess it'll come with time.

I am currently residing in a little house in the New York suburbs. It's a pleasant, small neighborhood, and I enjoy being here. The majority of my interior is white since I like to wake up in the morning with everything radiating brightness to get my day and good mood started.

My parents are currently paying for the house while I try to get back on my feet since they are both pretty well-off with good jobs, and my younger sister and I have always had the finer things in life. I started supporting myself after I graduated from high school, but when this became a last-minute decision and I didn't have a job lined up, they offered to help for the time being, which I appreciated.

To be honest, my parents always wanted me to do more than be a nanny, but I love what I do and have always been good with children. It's been my ideal job since I was a child, and I'd never change my career.

I suppose my doctor telling me a few years ago that my chances of ever having children are slim encouraged me to enjoy this profession even more as well. My parents eventually realized that I adored what I do, and they stopped attempting to persuade me otherwise.

Lying on my bed in my pajamas, I have been sipping coffee since it's early morning, when suddenly, I hear the sound of an email coming through on my laptop, which is at my feet at the foot of the bed. Excitement grips me, hoping for a new job opportunity after posting my résumé on several websites recently.

I set my coffee on the bedside table before reaching over and grabbing my laptop. I rest back on the headboard and lay it across my thighs before opening it to find the unread email. When I realize it’s from one of the websites where I placed my ad, I open it.

As soon as my eyes scan over the text, my brow begins to furrowin confusion as I read the word "urgent" before I reach for my phone beside me without hesitation.

With it in my hand, I glance between my phone and the laptop screen while dialing the number provided before placing the phone against my ear, and a woman answers the call after a couple of rings.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is Wren Edwardz. I just called regarding the nanny position."

"Hey, yeah! Are you available to meet today? It's a little urgent."

"I mean, sure!” I exhale a tiny breath before continuing. "When and where?"

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