Serpent's Web; The double life of siobhan.

Lullabies and LIES.

this is all fictional created by me. enjoy the horrors of the Knight Nursery. ;).

Siobhan Serpent stood in front of the nursery's spotless, child-sized sink, scrubbing away at a stack of tiny plastic cups. Her eyes were half-lidded with boredom, the hum of the fluorescent lights above filling the otherwise quiet space. She hated it here. The nursery, with its bright pastel walls, cheerful posters, and the constant sound of children's laughter, was an absurd contradiction to everything she was. But appearances were everything, and for now, she wore the role of a young, kind-hearted woman with a fondness for children as comfortably as she wore her uniform.

"Siobhan," a voice broke through her thoughts, sharp and precise. "Can you come to my office for a moment?" It was Marjorie, the manager of the nursery. Her tone was calm, but there was a hidden edge to it-one that Siobhan knew well enough to recognize.

With a sigh, Siobhan dried her hands and grabbed her clipboard, the weight of it comforting despite the mundane tasks it often represented. She walked through the nursery's quiet hall, past the room with the sleeping toddlers, their chubby faces pressed against soft pillows, to the small, cluttered office at the back.

Marjorie sat behind her desk, fingers steepled as she glanced at a clipboard of her own. "Have a seat, Siobhan." Her voice was polite but distant, as always.

Siobhan perched on the edge of the chair, forcing herself to smile. "What's this about, Marjorie?"

Before Marjorie could answer, the door opened behind Siobhan, and a low, softly spoken voice followed. "Is there a problem, Marjorie?"

Autumn. Of course.

Siobhan didn't need to turn around to know that the deputy manager had entered, her presence as always slightly too eager, too bright. Autumn's dark hair was perfectly styled, her outfit immaculate, and her smile-though always friendly-carried the veneer of insincerity that Siobhan loathed.

Autumn's eyes flicked toward Siobhan before returning to Marjorie. "Did I miss something?"

Marjorie raised an eyebrow, looking between the two women. "I thought it would be useful to have you both in on this conversation." She folded her hands in front of her, then fixed Siobhan with a cool stare. "We've been receiving a number of complaints, Siobhan. Some of the parents have expressed concerns about your interaction with the children."

Siobhan's heart beat a little faster, though her face remained neutral. "Complaints?" she repeated, her voice deceptively calm.

"Yes," Marjorie said, her tone heavy. "Specifically, your... disengagement with the children during playtime. A few parents mentioned that you seem distracted. Even a little distant and rude..Is everything alright?"

Siobhan's jaw tightened, but she said nothing for a moment, letting the silence stretch. It wasn't the first time her indifference had been pointed out. She couldn't stand the sugary sweetness of this job, couldn't stand pretending to care about the little brats who babbled and giggled as if life were nothing but an endless, undemanding game. It felt like an insult to her intelligence, to her skills, to everything she was capable of.

Autumn, however, didn't hesitate to interject. "I've noticed it, too. It's really important to make the children feel seen, Siobhan. You can't just go through the motions. They need real attention, especially in their formative years."

Siobhan's teeth ground together, the familiar rage simmering beneath the surface. Autumn. Perfect, insufferable Autumn. The type of woman who flourished in environments like this, the type of woman everyone stayed on the good side of and loved.-always ready with a smile, always eager to climb the ladder. She'd been Marjorie's little pet for as long as Siobhan had worked here, her constant need to be praised sickening to watch. Autumn's words weren't genuine concern-they were an opportunity to gain favor, to put Siobhan in her place.

"Maybe you'd like to give me a few pointers, Autumn," Siobhan replied, her voice dripping with sweetness that barely concealed the venom.

Autumn blinked, caught off guard, but quickly recovered with a smile that was just a touch too wide. "I'm only trying to help, Siobhan," she said, though it was clear she relished the chance to point out Siobhan's faults. "We all want the best for the children, don't we?"

"Of course," Siobhan said, her voice as sharp as a blade, though she kept her eyes trained on Marjorie. She wasn't about to let Autumn win this small battle.

Marjorie gave a small nod, but her gaze remained unreadable. "Siobhan, we've had a talk about this before, haven't we? You need to work on your engagement with the kids. It's a crucial part of the job."

Siobhan fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I'll try my best," she said, the words like acid in her mouth. "But I can't promise I'll suddenly become a motherly figure."

Marjorie's gaze hardened. "I'm not asking you to be 'motherly,' Siobhan. I'm asking you to do your job."

Siobhan didn't respond immediately. She could feel Autumn's eyes on her, the faint satisfaction in the air as if Autumn had won some small victory. It was disgusting. Everything about Autumn rubbed Siobhan the wrong way-the way she played the game with such ease, the way she pretended to care, the way she was constantly... perfect.

Autumn leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing with a hidden challenge. "Just remember, Siobhan," she said, her tone light but full of meaning, "you're here for the children. Not for yourself."

"Right," Siobhan replied flatly. "For the children."

Marjorie glanced between the two women, sensing the tension but not willing to address it directly. "Good. I expect to see an improvement by next week." She stood, signaling the end of the conversation. "Autumn, can you stay for a moment? Siobhan, you may go."

Siobhan didn't wait for any further instructions. She turned on her heel and left the office, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Autumn's voice followed her down the hall, light and innocent, but Siobhan could hear the undertone of superiority, the way Autumn was so content in her role as the favored one.

She hated her. Hated her more than she could express.

But it didn't matter. Siobhan wasn't here to make friends. She wasn't here to fit in. The nursery, the children, even Marjorie and Autumn-they were just part of the game. The real work would begin soon enough. And when it did, she would be ready.

But for now, she would endure. Just a little longer.

After all, even the serpent had to hide its fangs sometimes.

(a short chapter but wait it's worth it to keep reading !!!)