Goodnight, Socialite

I: In the Darkest Corner

[[So, i mostly wrote this because the song is so catchy and i though the story was awesome but i didn't quite understand it, so here's my twist on what story it might have told. Enjoy!]]

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*Alexander's POV*

"Danielle!"

Unrelenting rain drenched my coat as my fist hammered into the large oak doors. Each blow sent a surge of pain up my arm, but i paid it (as well as the rain) no mind. My fiancee had run off and left me while we were out for dinner with her family. With no reason for her absence, i assumed she felt ill... Or, she finally figured it out.

"Danielle, i demand an explanation! How foolish of you to run off during such an event! Open this door, dammit!"

With each blow, my anger increased ten-fold and i felt my sanity slipping away. All i could imagine in that moment was her Pretty face taking the blows from my hands in place of the doors. I quickly shook the thought from my mind and ceased with my efforts. As i slowly sunk against the door frame, rain still battering my cheeks, i heaved a great sigh.

"...Can we just talk?"

My tone was so low, i figured only i could hear it, but apparently not.
Suddenly, the door i was propped up against opened and my back began to teeter inside. In a startle, i rose and quickly scurried out of the rain and the black, eeriness of night.

"Danielle?"

Her name echoed through the hallowed halls of the mansion. I removed my hat and coat, both weighed by the amount of water they had taken moments ago, and set them aside next to the door. Looking around, i found no sign of her. Not a sound could be heard, save for that of my own breathing which was now magnified in the atrium i stood in. Taking a step caused even louder echoes which sent a chill down my spine, but i had to find Danielle, no matter how many haunted steps i took.
The mansion was larger than most i had seen, including my own, so i began with the few rooms that i knew. As i made my way to Danielle's room, i smelt an overwhelming aroma that invaded the hallway. It reminded me of home, and my mother's fascination with roses. She even believed them to have healing properties-- that crazy old woman. Never the less, i could practically hear my mother speak to me as i continued down the hall, hypnotized by the smell.
The door to Danielle's room was open, so i knocked lightly before entering without a welcome.

"Hello...?"

No answer. No Danielle. Only a few dozen dresses scattered across the floor and a pile of roses covering the large bed at the center of the room. Approaching the satin sheets caused a sense of uneasiness to stir within me.
She obviously left these here, but where is she now?
I picked up the nearest rose and examined it. All the roses had been de-thorned, leaving nothing but their sweet smell to admire. As i drew closer, the smell did become more and more pronounced, but it was now followed by a strange... Yet oddly familiar smell. Upon closer inspection, the roses also seemed to be covered in some kind of sticky substance.
Dabbing my finger in the liquid and looking a little closer, it was obvious that the roses were covered in blood; the tangy, metallic smell that i sensed... I knew it, i just didn't want to believe it.
I quickly drop the roses and ran back down the hall onto the next room.

"Dani! Dani, talk to me!"

That name... I hadn't called her that in forever. It almost made me feel guilty, like the reason for our recent feuds were a result of things like this; me forgetting how to treat her like i used to. When we first met. I need to make things right, she has to understand i want to, but i've done so many bad things... And she knows it.
The next room i came upon was the ball room. Coming to a halt, my shoes squealed and my steps echoed off into non existence. I looked around and was immediately hit by a wave of nostalgia. This was where we first met.
December, 1795
The Ainsworth family held a Christmas ball, inviting many distinguished members of society, including my father and myself. It was a night of extravagance, but despite the temptation that surrounded me, my father gave me a mission: seduce the rich young daughter of Abel and Maggie Ainsworth. And so i did, and quick work i had made of it, too. The girl's heart was mine before the stroke of midnight. We were engaged shortly thereafter and were set to marry within the next 2 years, due to political disputes (among other issues that arose). But my father cared not, all that mattered to him was that the young lady was mine, and she was, without a doubt, in love. If only i could have said the same for myself...
Tracing the steps of a long forgotten waltz, i could hear the music, drifting through the air, as if their musicians stood only feet away from me. But i was alone, and the music was but a memory, as was the waltz.
I left the ballroom before any more memories could enter my thoughts and tamper with my emotions.
Running through hall after hall, taking every twist, turn, short cut and secret passage, i could find no sign of her until one room was left: the guest room. The room in which i had been taking residence for months now.
Biting my lip and forcing my eyes shut, i entered the room as the door let out a loud, haunting sigh. And there, in the darkest corner of the house, i found her body. Cold and stiff, spine in a twist.