The Ritter Mansion

By Mariela Saravia

Emile and Kent Ritter acquired a Mansion in a rural village located in northern Estonia, but after a few days after moving, paranormal effects begin to occur in the residence. Many neighbours say it is the wandering spirit of Miss Archer, who was murdered two centuries ago.

Emile understands that in those events, a signal from the great beyond is hidden and she will show her family that her baleful phobia can be put to the side when it is about saving her family.

Jhoan Schmidt, is a woman with serious psychological problems and a degree in criminology, seeking for justice. And it will not take her much time to achieve her evil plan in order to get back what was always hers...

           

“A psychological thriller that goes beyond romance, focusing on the rivalry between sisters and in the darkest recesses of the human mind...”

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Apr 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781547527144

Book preview

Mariela Saravia

Translated by: Edith Lopez

All rights reserved Copyright © 2015, Mariela Saravia. This original work was written and edited by Mariela Saravia and is protected by copyright and related rights standards, in accordance with the guidelines of the World Intellectual Property Organization. Code: 1510175509424

I dedicate my first paranormal thriller to my father,

an exemplary man and the love of my life;

Maykol Hernandez

Thanks for being always by my side...

Argument

Are you fearful, and mentally vulnerable, someone close to you wants something you own... And will not take long to get it at any price, even if it’s about murder

Emile and Kent Ritter acquired a Mansion in a rural village located in northern Estonia, but after a few days after moving, paranormal effects begin to occur in the residence. Many neighbours say it is the wandering spirit of Miss Archer, who was murdered two centuries ago.

Emile understands that in those events, a signal from the great beyond is hidden and she will show her family that her baleful phobia can be put to the side when it is about saving her family.

Jhoan Schmidt, is a woman with serious psychological problems and a degree in criminology, seeking for justice. And it will not take her much time to achieve her evil plan in order to get back what was always hers...

A psychological thriller that goes beyond romance, focusing on the rivalry between sisters and in the darkest recesses of the human mind...

Chapter 1

White Ladder Hill

1

The Ritter family travelled in a vaporous air, along the Via Baltica highway, on the way to Lasnamäe; in order to arrive soon to the mystic forest that bordered the Mansion.

Emile was a fearful woman by nature, who upon receiving the news from Kent about the new house in a rural village in the North of the country, thought twice about if moving there would be a good idea, or if it was better to stay where she was. The changes never suited her, much less after facing her second divorce. Emile was in a very depressed mood, wondering if she was a good mother and if this time, she would be a good wife. A few months ago she had married Kent and despite how kind he was, every effort on his part was infructuous. Emile pretended to be fine, although in her heart she was still weighing a middle-aged nervous breakdown, in addition to the duel that the divorce brought with it. What she needed at those moments was to relax and enjoy the calm that her new marriage was beginning to give her, along with the pleasure of owning a brand new home. She trusted that her husband would surprise her with something that was above her liking. She let her imagination fly, visualizing how the Mansion could be like. She imagined it big, built in stone and wood; in a Nordic and medieval style. With a spacious kitchen, large windows to let in the daylight come in. Cosy carpets and several bedrooms that could be used for various purposes. Maybe with a spacious garden, where the girls could play. She smiled when she remembered that, and turned her gaze back to the fogged glass that by that time reflected a limpid street that with each kilometre became narrower and narrower. That caused a slight suffocation, so she opened the car window a bit to breathe fresh air. She pulled her head out slightly, allowing herself to be enveloped by that cold breeze; that brought with it the smell of cypress and the end of the autumn.

The pale yellow moon barely peeked out from the bluish black mantle of the sky and the houses of the shaded village stood out at the sight of dim lights emanating from timidly lit chimneys. Others more equipped with anaemic candles, whose flames zigzagged in the bronze candlesticks, were enough illumination to recreate a melancholic atmosphere. During the day, the sun was always hidden behind a blanket of white and its vague rays were quickly consumed by the density of the fog. The cold felt at all times, like icy breaths coming from the jaws of a cave. Certainly, it was not the place she would have chosen to spend the rest of her days.

Lasnamäe was a town of archaic customs, with hidden valleys and tenebrous legends that would leave any other visitor, highly disturbed by its gloomy mystery. And despite being the 21st century, many inhabitants preferred to live as if they lived two centuries ago. The narrow and cobbled streets, the deco rock and limestone little houses, full of blackish green moss; all squeezed together as if that way they to avoid feeling fear. And the small windows dispersed at each corner of the houses only allowed imagining what could happen inside each home.

The wind blew like a whisper of ethereal singing and the rain scratched the windows of the car, like the claws of a paranormal beast. Everything seemed to be enclosed by a thick nebula, covered by a Gothic dome that, little by little, engulfed them like a ruthless monster refusing to let them go free.

The old legend told that anyone who crossed the tracks and the land of that Mansion would be devoured in a single bite. The old inhabitants of the residence had deserted at the third day after they rented it, and the following ones preferred not to come in, is that the absence of neighbouring neighbours (since no small house adjoined with it), left more questions than answers. It wasn’t the solitude in which that medieval mass stood, in a forest sheathed in shadows but the paranormal events that took place there.

Kent drove very slowly, following the narrow street that opened little by little before his stiffened by exhaustion corneas. The radio had stopped transmitting minimalist classical music and the last thing his ears had heard, apart from the scandal of their daughters, had been the meteorological state of the next five days. Apparently, a wave of Siberian cold and stormy rains was coming, which would surely wipe out more than one old village.

The wallpaper that was unfolding before his eyes was a faded sky in mourning colours, with leafy trees and watercolours of children playing with a ball at the foot of the road. Old ladies directing their eyes full of surprise to that old Ford of the 48 ‘. A pick up that went right to the neighbourhood of White Ladder Hill. Where stood out that Mansion known by all as "The Lady Archer’s Mansion" Everyone knew its history and nobody dared to set foot in its vicinity; when they heard that a new family was coming, all the neighbours laughed animated, betting that they would not last a month. That Mansion would be deserted for the next few centuries; no one in his right mind could inhabit it without ending losing his mind.

A few years ago, a group of teenagers had visited it to challenge each other, in an attempt to demonstrate their manhood and they did not manage to endure there for an hour. Months after that, a group of tourists pushed by the curiosity of the legends, roamed at ease, studying the place and infrastructure that over time, became a feared national heritage if you could call it that way. And like the teenagers, they went out in terror because of the thick atmosphere and the heavy energy that surrounded that ample space.

It seems a fairly quiet place, don’t you think Emile? Kent commented, glancing at his wife, who only prepared to smile and nod silently. She was consumed by the fatigue and by the atmosphere that instead of improving, seemed to become increasingly dark and gloomy. The neighbourhood is very special. I visited it a few weeks ago before making a few adjustments to our home.

"Home!" Emile repeated to herself, doubting if with what her eyes saw, she could call it that when her feet stepped on that neighbourhood.

Why don’t you give me a clue to the new house? She asked excitedly. She was not used to being surprised, but with Kent that was already starting to become a very common detail. If you tell me, maybe while I sleep I can imagine and dream about it.

Emile asked, wrapped in her thick coat, carefully observing the halo of joy that settled on Kent’s face. He liked it so much when his wife was deluded with its details and surprises, that it was impossible to keep any secret. Although for this time he did not betray himself, and by compiling his will this time he did not give any detail.

Kent grinned mischievously, ignoring the beautiful church that, before his eyes, timidly showed the crest of the highest ceiling. The one who held the burnished silver cross and the bronze bell tower, the one that sang the typical bells every Sunday and holidays.

I can only tell you that it is a very old Mansion the sleepy eyes of Emile opened like plates, feeling the praise that her husband gave her with the tremendous news Well it is not like those seen in the movies of the rich. He stated But it’s a house big enough. It has several bedrooms and a large garden Added Kent, feeling obligated to tell his wife the truth. Especially when the word Mansion had made her react like a little girl and the adjective old seemed to scare her away. He did not want his wife to have any illusions, imagining something that was very far from reality.

It sounds very luxurious... she commented doubtfully, feeling how her body perspired. And how do you plan to pay for a house of that magnitude? If it can be known

You don’t worry, about that everything is solved, Kent responded, nodding confidently, searching for her smooth hand in the darkness.

Kent and Emile were not very wealthy, so it could be suggested that they had to count every penny. Even more, after paying for a wedding, a modest honeymoon and a move like those. Not to mention that they had three daughters who demanded more than just their full attention. Especially Sandra who being the oldest had more material demands than her two little sisters.

Emile no longer worked away from home and Kent was a simple assembly worker who did not earn a lot of money per month. However, the Mansion was a historical relic, which acquired at auction price or at least that, was what the seller had said.

Weeks before the marriage, Kent bought the house as a wedding gift for Emile, but no one even the real estate agent informed him that the house had a stigma. Meaning it was possessed by the ghost of Miss Archer. Much less, told him that other customers had left the house, because of the paranormal things that happened there. And neither told him about teenagers or tourists; that secret would take him to his grave. It had been hard for him to sell this Mansion, and now that a naive buyer had appeared, he would not lose the sale it because he left his tongue ran.

Mr Glasshöod had the appearance of a bribery lawyer; with prominent belly and rosy cheeks, small eyes like pinheads and a snub nose like a pig. He had that ploy of the most experienced in real estate business, and with that hypocritical smile, he was able to convince anyone. Kent in his euphoria about the coming marriage, did not say a word, except "I accept, thank you very much" receiving the heavy metal hook, interlaced with several old keys. He looked up, on that sunny morning and watched the Mansion as if it were a trophy to boast about. He thought he had about two weeks to ask the builders to give it a little makeover, before bringing his family to live in it. The budget that he had left, only allowed him the opportunity to pay for municipal services, real estate papers, services for daily use and finally, pay for an unprofessional gardening service. The arrangements pertinent to the Mansion would be paid them over time. Surely Emile would not mind living in an old shack, not if he promised to reshape it little by little.

Well, Mr Ritter, the deal is done. I say goodbye because I have other businesses to attend.

Do not worry Mr Glasshöod; I know the way back, Kent responded, stunned by the infinite peace that was breathed in that town. He wanted to go inside the Mansion to have a quick eye, but he thought that he would do better accompanied by a professional, in case he needed it. If it was such an old infrastructure, he did not want to be in any danger.

When he was ready to get back into the car, he felt the presence of someone watching him very closely. The silhouette of a woman hid behind the tree near the railing of the big window. A strong wind stirred behind him, causing the golden leaves at the foot of the steps at the entrance of the Mansion, a whirlwind that before the most careful vision; formed the 3D figure of the same lady of the window. But Kent was too absorbed in his thoughts to pay attention to that paranormal phenomenon. Nothing, absolutely nothing could cloud the euphoria that he carried within as if that was the beginning of a picturesque carnival.

Now as he drove, Kent crossed his fingers in a disguised way, pleading with the universe for his family to feel happy, and welcome in that new place. He was tired of the urban and industrial environment, he looked for calm and that calm only the mountain would give it to him. Emile was easy to please just like the two little girls, except Sandra who was unbearable, like a pimple festering in the ass.

Kent remembered the tantrum the girl had made when her mother told her about the divorce, and that she would remarry a man five years younger than her for the third time. Sandra, fifteen years old, was selfish and domineering. When Kent met her she reminded her so much of his ex-girlfriend Jhoan. However, he did everything possible to win her love, which was not a challenge at all. He managed to convince Sandra that the relationship with his mother, this time would give the expected results. He also had to show himself as more than just his mother’s boyfriend; he would be something better than the