The Ghost of a Guardian

Chapter One: At the Opera Tonight

The opera house was a beautiful sight. News surrounding the reopening of the said opera house was all anyone could talk about. Especially after the infamous fire that happened what felt like a million years ago. Walking through the front doors one may not have known the tragedy that had happened that night.

Everything looked as it had the years prior, or even better than it already had if it were possible. Women and men who had already arrived laughed, danced, drank, and spoke with colleagues all around. It felt like the place had no limit to the number of people who could fit into the opera house's warm atmosphere.

Well, warm for most.

A young woman walked through the door arm in arm with her betrothed. Her strawberry blonde hair falling to about her mid-back in a million beautiful curls, dressed in the finest dress that money could buy. While everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time, the woman couldn't help but have a melancholy look plastered across her features.

She spoke with some people, enjoying the slight relief it gave her, although it seemed her fiancé had no intention to let her hold her own conversation with someone for more than five minutes. She excused herself after this happened several different times, and found an empty hallway that no one else at the party seemed to be paying any mind to. Yet her fiancé followed her.

"Do smile, you look like you're at a funeral," He leaned down to whisper in her ear, practically hissing. She jolted her arm from his, her eyes never losing contact with his.

"I am at a funeral, the funeral of my spirit," She hissed back. "Not that you would care anyway, all you care about is your money and social status," He slapped her across her face.

No one noticed a few tears rolled down her cheeks. Not wanting to have anything else to with this, she walked, practically ran away to rejoin the party in case she needed any witnesses.

"A glass of champagne, madam?" A young waiter asked, holding a tray of skinny glasses. The woman half smiled as she took a glass.

"Do you have anything stronger?" She joked, taking a sip. This made the waiter laugh a little.

"Not really no," He chuckled. "But I can do this." He took the glass out of her hand gently and poured it into one of the other glasses. "They're only half filled anyway, that's technically a full glass." He gave a warm smile.

She sat at a table comfortably talking to the young man blissfully for about an hour. Until her fiancé, obviously drunk, came over to her and pulled her away from the table and the other guests to the hallway she had just escaped from. He smacked her again, she felt her lip split at the pressure due to his family's ring he always wore.

"How dare you defy me?! I gave you everything!" The woman began to cry, he began to beat her, harder and harder were the punches. She cried out in pain. Interrupting his punch, a hand grabbed Christopher's fist, enabling him to hit her again.

"I may be naïve in the ways of women, but I'm pretty sure that is now way to treat your fiancé." It was the young man she had been talking to for the last hour. "Are you alright mademoiselle?" He moved his attention from Christopher to her.

"This is none of your concern." Christopher spat. "Leave us at once." He elbowed the man in the ribs with enough force to send him stumbling back. Spilling the beverages, making him slip and smack his head against the marble wall. Blood splattering on contact.

"Please Christopher, stop!" She cried, watching the young man's body slump against the wall. "Please, I'll do whatever you want, just please stop!" She begged, tears streaming down her face. She looked around. "He's hurt, he needs medical attention!" She pleaded. "Somebody help!" She could already picture the bruises forming on her body.

Christopher punched her in the stomach, causing her to cough up blood. One more blow to the head and she was out. He panicked, thinking he had killed her. He dragged her body to a room which must have been someone's dressing room. It was there he found a mirror, when he touched it, it revealed some sort of passageway. Where it went, he did not seem to care, so he threw her in there. The passageway must have also included stairs because he heard her constantly making a thud. Then he left, feeling no guilt for possibly killing her.

He had enough money to get away with it.