The Wraiths of Via Riviera

The Riviera family has many skeletons in their closet, both literally and figuratively. Their abandoned mansion, the Via Riviera, is avoided by everyone in town. Even snakes and black cats avoid crossing its path for fear of bad luck. The only things lurking in the halls are the ghosts trapped inside its rundown walls. 

The night is young. The moon glows blue, but you can hardly see it behind the clouds. A lone girl, 17, maybe, stands on the beaten gravel driveway. Something about the presence of darkness makes the eerie seem much more sinister. Nevertheless, the girl approaches the Via Riviera’s front door. The red color comes from the blood of those who allegedly died here. Tonight is the night for Maisy to find out what secrets are buried in this old house, the night to find out the truth, assuming she doesn’t die. Maisy huffs a breath of courage and opens the far too creaky door. Maisy has always had a taste for the eerie and eccentric, but this may be too far. Well, there’s no turning back now. Or is there? The door was right behind her. No. She has a mission, one passed down by her grandmother and one she didn’t intend to fail.  

“Release the wraiths. Seal the cracks,” she whispers.

She unslings her backpack and retrieves a flashlight. A pale beam illuminates her path. 

Her grandmother’s instructions mummer in her head,

Once you enter the door, you must go up the grand staircase to the master bedroom. 

Maisy takes a deep breath. Before her are the grand staircase, railings wrought in murky gold, and deep blue carpet lightened by decades of dust. She worries her knees will buckle as she begins the climb. Halfway up, she has to sneeze. Her eyes are watering by the time she reaches the top. 

The master bedroom is at the end of the hall. The bottom drawer on the left bedside table has a false bottom. Inside is the key to the attic. Grab it. 

Sure enough, the bottom gave way, and a silver key rested beneath the wood. Maisy plucks it out and slips it into her pocket. She releases a breath. Step one is complete. 

The key opens the door to the attic. That’s where the first ghost is. Her name was Abigail Riviera. She was the oldest daughter of Alexander and Rose. Rose never wanted to be a mother, so she was always cruel to her children. When she heard of Alexander’s affair, she lost her mind and locked Abigail in the attic. She died shortly after. 

Now Maisy stood before the attic door, the cold metal key no doubt leaving an imprint in her hand. “Release the wraiths. Seal the cracks.” Maisy must hold her hand steady to get the key in the hole. It clicks. Sweat and fear cause her hand to slip. She may love ghost stories, but she’s never actually seen a ghost. What if Abigail attacks her? What if she gets hurt?

“What if I can’t do this?”  The memory floats back to her. She’s sitting on the corner of her grandmother’s deathbed. This was the day Maisy received her family’s mission. Her grandmother’s hand is cold as it wraps around hers. 

“I had wished to give you more time, my dear, but I’m afraid mine’s running out. You have to do this, Maisy. You’re the only one who can.”

A single tear drips down her cheek. She wipes her hand on her pants and turns the key.

“I can do this. Release the wraiths. Seal the cracks.” 

The attic door creaks open to reveal a tiny room. Everywhere the light hits is covered in scratches. The stench of the room is strong enough to choke Maisy as she searches for Abigail. 

“Hello?” she calls. “My name’s Maisy. I’m here to let you out.”

At that, Maisy notices a soft blue glow in the corner. It grows bigger, shifting into the shape of a young woman. Abigail. A moth-eaten slip dress hangs from her frail, floating body. Her translucent eyes look at Maisy. Even starved and in desperate need of a shower, Abigail still looks somewhat beautiful, encased in blue light. Her lips start moving. Maisy steps forward to hear a whispered “thank you.” Abigail morphs back into an orb, darting past Maisy to the open door. Maisy smiles. That wasn’t so bad, she thinks. 

Abigail always was a kind soul. Her grandmother had sounded so wistful when she said that. 

The next ghost was Albert Wilcanshal, a less kind soul. He tripped and broke his neck in one of the secret stairwells used by the servants. The entrance is behind a flower painting. 

Maisy stands in the hallway, staring at three different flower paintings on the same wall. There are another three on the wall behind her. She sighs as she stands in front of the first painting. She pulls hard on the frame with both hands, causing the canvas to clatter at her feet. So, not that one. She moves on to the next, which also attempts to break her toes. Or that one. The third painting, however, does not fall. Instead, it opens up a rectangular hole in the wall. Maisy picks up her flashlight and climbs inside. 

There’s a broken step where Albert fell. You need to watch out for it so you don’t trip either. Albert’s ghost haunts it, causing others to fall to their deaths. He got your father. You must pry that step off and get it out the door quickly. 

The wood groans beneath Maisy every step of the way. She moves quickly, eyes peeled for the broken step. It’s the seventh. Maisy continues to the bottom. It is best not to stay on a haunted staircase while retrieving something from your bag. Maisy’s hand is wrapping around the handle of a hammer when a gray orb begins forming in a cloud of smoke before her. The wire of wind fills her ears as it propels toward her. She ducks. It vanishes. Maisy runs up the stairs, stopping before the seventh. She drops to her knees, prying the wood with her hammer. She gets the right half loose before Albert reappears. She spares him a glance, frantically prying the left half up. He charges again but vanishes into the air inches from her. Maisy breathes a heavy sigh of relief, closing her eyes. A laugh escapes her, joyous and disbelieving. She’d done it, and without a second to spare. 

Ahem. Maisy turns her head to the source of the noise. Albert is standing at the top of the stairs, cast in a pale gray glow. He’s wearing a suit, bowtie and all. He gestures to the door at the bottom of the flight. Maisy lets out a sheepish laugh, muttering an apology. They both walk down, and Maisy holds the door for him. Albert adjusts his collar and fixes his sleeves. He gives her a curt nod before crossing the threshold and disappearing into dust. Maisy smiles. Another ghost freed; I’m two for two. Her grandmother's voice returns.

The last ghosts were Dorthy Basque and Victoria Sinclaire. Dorthy was a maid who was just a little too curious. Alexander Riviera had her killed after she found out about his affair with Victoria. Then, he killed Victoria after he got her pregnant. They’re buried together in the basement. Once you free them, all that’s left to do is seal the cracks in the house's foundation. Then, our family's mission will finally be complete. Basements are notoriously the creepiest part of any house. Walking into a haunted basement takes every bit of Maisy’s strength. Her flashlight is a small comfort against the shadows lurking against the walls, waiting to swallow her whole. 

The bodies are buried under the floorboards. Maisy moves to the corner of the room. She uses her hammer to pull up the carpet. Maisy begins to rip the carpet out once there’s enough to hold on to. It puts up a fight, causing her to topple over. She lands with a thud that doesn’t sound right. It sounded hollow. Maisy set her bag on the spot and kept tugging. The carpet gives way. Maisy grabs her hammer and falls to her knees. She pulls up the first floorboard, sliding it out of the way. There’s a skeleton, part of one. She keeps going until two complete skeletons are revealed. Maisy falls back as two blue orbs shoot up, darting to the stairwell and out of the basement. Maisy doesn’t blame their urgency. “Release the wraiths. Seal the cracks.” 

The hard part is over. The wraiths are all free because of her. 

I knew you could do it, my dear. 

All that’s left is to seal the cracks in the foundation. Maisy gets her flashlight and bag. She removes another floorboard, one with no bodies beneath it, and climbs down. Her feet hit the concrete. Her flashlight reveals six large, thin cracks. 

Each crack symbolizes a death that happened in the Via Riviera. You must seal them, or the wraiths will never be completely free. It takes Maisy close to 45 minutes to add a sufficient amount of sealant to each crack. When she finishes, she looks up to see two more wraiths. These are basked in a white light, soft and warm. They take the form of a man and a woman. A smile spreads across Maisy’s face as she begins to cry. 

“Mom? Dad?” Maisy’s parents float before her. She runs to them, runs through them.

“Right,” she utters. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Her mom tells her, voice as gentle as always. Both of her parents are beaming.

“I knew you could do it, sweetie,” her dad says. His hand hovers above her shoulder as close as possible without passing through. Her mom’s hand does the same.

“I’m so happy to see you! I’ve missed you so much!” Maisy cries.

“We’ve missed you too. Your mother and I are so proud of you, Maisy.”

“Your grandmother would be proud, too. You freed her sister’s spirit. Now they can meet again on the other side.”

“That’s where you’re going, too, right?” Maisy looks down. 

“Yes,” her father says. “But we’ll always be with you here.” He points to her heart.

“And here.” her mother gestures to the house around them. “Thanks to you. You completed our family’s mission, and you took back our home. You’ve restored the Riviera name.”

“We have to go now,” her father says, his hand hovering over Maisy’s hair. 

“We love you,” her parents say in unison as they begin to fade.

“I love you too.”

Maisy Riviera spends the rest of the night exploring the other parts of Via Riviera. Eventually, she wanders to her grandmother’s old room, taking a well-deserved nap. She’s had enough ghost-hunting for now.