Hey guys, I just wanted to preface this by saying I should have listened to the responses I got on part one. You all tried to warn me and express your concerns of danger but I didn’t listen. Fair warning, what I found has left me in shock, and I honestly have no idea what to do now. Please comment below your thoughts, and what you think my plan of action should be. I am beyond terrified and scared that I might have found something that will put my life in danger…
Before I continue, make sure you read part one, you must have the background before reading what I found.
The following day, I jumped out of bed with a fresh-found vigor. I was bursting with excitement and hurried downstairs to eat and get out the door. After breakfast with my family, I told my parents I planned to explore the forest. They asked me to take my younger brother, but I knew I couldn’t drag him along for this, so I politely refused. With some huffing and puffing from my parents, I got my things together and headed into the forest. I had two water bottles, a flashlight, my phone, wallet, pocket knife, and headphones at the bottom of my backpack.
The air was cool and refreshing; a light breeze swayed the branches above my head. It was sunny, but the heat was minimal. I loved the weather in Germany; it was far better than the Texas heat I endured every summer. The forest around me had grown highly dense, and I had started to walk at a slight incline. Before long, I noticed the ground taking a drastic upward angle. The thick coat of leaves covering the forest bed made it difficult to stand, so I lowered myself to the ground and began to crawl. The ground was incredibly slick, and I felt like any second now, I would fall. A tree just out of reach looked like it could support my weight, so bracing myself I lunged for it. Without fail, I clasped onto the base and held myself before pulling my legs up. As my feet found a comfortable position, a loud CRACK broke the forest’s silence, and before I could react I was tumbling backward.
Covering my face and head, I rolled down the hill, rocks and branches assaulting me from every angle. The speed at which I was falling increased, and I knew I needed to try and slow my fall. With a last-ditch effort for safety, I opened my eyes, moving them side to side hoping to catch a glimpse of my surroundings. As I swung my head back to face center, I saw a strange-looking pile of leaves directly in my path. I immediately thought it resembled a small outcropping, but I hit it before I could determine exactly what it was.
The impact sent a violent shudder up my spine, and my legs buckled under the force. I collapsed in a pile of limbs and appendages, groaning from the pain this fall had caused. However as I lay there, coming to my senses, I realized two things. One I had stopped falling, and two the outcropping I lay on was firm. I was hurting, that’s for sure, but as far as I could tell my body was intact aside from a few obvious cuts and bruises. Brushing away the leaves at my feet, I saw a manhole cover standing out from the concrete that surrounded it. Leaning in, I examined the cover and chuckled when I saw what was in its middle. A swastika stared back at me, almost as if it were the X that marked the spot. Did I just find an entrance to the bunkers? Not possible.
Standing up, which took considerable effort, I leaned over the edge and saw a wall of concrete disappearing into the slope below. The structure I found myself on almost resembled a chimney, tall and rectangular. How has this never been found? I didn’t see it on my way up. Was it here this whole time? I couldn’t understand how something this large was suddenly presented to me, but I wasn’t going to complain. All that mattered was that I had found it, and now I had a serious decision to make. Do I go now, or do I wait till night? I took a second to think and then decided that I’d have to go at night. My parents were inherently cautious, and I knew they would worry if I disappeared during the day. At night, fast asleep, they couldn’t worry about much more than the dreams in their heads. I videoed the area around the entrance and took detailed pictures so as not to forget where this structure stood.
When I arrived home, my Oma immediately scolded me because I had gotten so dirty. I apologized and mentioned that I had slipped while exploring. She laughed it off and told me to put my clothes in the wash. The afternoon passed by quickly, and the night was fast approaching. My nerves were wired, and I was growing antsy. I had checked my bag three times to ensure I had everything, and now I just had to wait till the house fell silent. As I waited, I let my mind wander to what I might find below the surface, but I couldn’t imagine my adventure turning into something like the movie The Descent. When I heard the first faint snores coming from my grandmother’s and my parent’s bedrooms, I crept out the back door and was off into the mountains.
Darkness consumed everything around me, and I was beginning to feel uneasy. Night in the forest was no joke; mixed with the all-consuming darkness, the sounds of animals and creatures led to paranoia. I had mapped out the location of the entrance earlier, but the pictures and videos I had taken were from the middle of the day, and the addition of night rendered them useless. It was like the forest from earlier had been picked up and dropped into a different dimension. My surroundings were far from familiar and I was afraid I’d be lost if I didn’t find the Concrete Chimney (the name I gave the structure) again soon.
The ground had started to reach an incline again, and for the first time since walking out the backdoor, I felt like the entrance to the bunker was close. My flashing suddenly reflected off the slab of concrete rising out of the dirt and leaves around it. I had made my way back to the Concrete Chimney, and now more than ever felt the pressure of what I would find deep inside the mountain I stood upon. Pulling myself onto the the top of the entrance, I squatted down next to the manhole cover displaying the Swastika symbol and opened my backpack reaching inside for the crowbar I’d stolen from my Oma’s outside shed. I’ll admit, I hadn’t used a crowbar before to pry off a manhole cover, but time spent on YouTube and internet forums in the late afternoon had given me enough confidence to give it a go.
Wedging the edge of the crowbar underneath the lid, I applied my full strength to the opposite end of the bar and pushed. The lid flew off with ease, landing with a resounding THUD in the bed of leaves left of the Chimney. Turning back to face the now open hole, I let my flashlight illuminate a ladder that disappeared into the darkness my light couldn’t penetrate. Checking once more the contents of my backpack, I zipped it shut, and slung it over my back. Lowering myself onto the first wrung, I took a deep breath and began my descent.
Dust billowed up in clouds around me as I made my way down the metal ladder wrung by wrung. The urge to sneeze was all-consuming, but I forced myself to ignore it, afraid the involuntary movement that comes with sneezing would send me tumbling into the dark abyss beneath me. 15 minutes or so of fighting sneezes, and breathing in stale air had passed, as I planted my feet on the dirt floor the ladder ascended from. Looking up, the light from the opening looked like a pinhole, barely visible to my eyes. Judging by the distance, I was at least two hundred feet down, but with no tape measure to corroborate my estimate, my guess was as good as yours.
The room I was standing in was vast and looked to have been frequented by teenagers looking for a place to party and let loose. Graffiti decorated the stone walls, and empty cans of beer and seltzers were littered across the floor. I’m not the first to go down here, but how far did those before me get? I thought as I slowly surveyed the room. Across from where the ladder met the floor, was an opening in the wall forming the entrance to a dark tunnel. Unease spread through me as I gazed into the tunnel’s darkness, but having come this far my only option was to continue onward.
Before committing to the tunnel, I wanted to examine the Graffiti that surrounded me. Most of the images and words were nonsensical, just your typical drunken vulgar phrases, and crude jokes. The expressions on the wall were nothing more than remnants of an alcohol-soaked night, and with nothing left to see, I tightened the straps on my pack and marched headfirst toward the tunnel that patiently awaited my arrival.
My flashlight lit up the entrance to the tunnel, exposing dust, cobwebs, and beer cans, but there were fewer visible in the tunnel, compared to the piles that surrounded me. The tunnel’s roof looked to stretch far into the darkness, and the walls looked wide enough to fit three people walking side by side. I stepped into the tunnel and began to walk, keeping my light focused on the stretch in front of me. I expected to feel panic or fear as I walked deeper and deeper into the tunnel, but in reality, I felt very comfortable being surrounded by miles of stone on every side. After a while, I observed a downward slant in the tunnel, indicating a descent into the inner reaches of the mountain.
After 15 minutes of walking, I paused to catch my breath and jot down some of the thoughts circulating through my head. Sitting against the cool stone wall, I pulled a brown leather notebook out of my bag and flipped to the first empty page that was available. The thoughts and observations I had thus far, flowed seamlessly from the tip of my pen onto the blank canvas of the page.
I’ve been walking for 45 minutes or so, and I’ve got to be around five or six hundred feet under the ground.
The first stretch of the tunnel showed signs of exploration, but I don’t think anyone has been this deep down in years. This place looks untouched.
This far down it has gotten awfully cold, and the silence I’ve been walking in has gone from peaceful to eerie. I feel strange, something seems wrong.
I can’t imagine this tunnel going much farther, but then again, it could be miles before I reach an end. Either way, I’m committed to finding out.
Closing my notebook, a genuine sense of unease grew as I thought about what might lie ahead. I had no idea what I might come across, but the feeling I had as I turned to head deeper didn’t boost my confidence. I started to slow my pace as the tunnel began to curve, the floor’s slope becoming steeper as I continued. With each impending turn, I found myself pausing, my imagination conjuring images of elusive creatures lurking in the shadows, eager to bring this exploration of mine to a close.
Rounding another bend, I saw that the tunnel stretched on again, forming a long straight line. The ground had also leveled out, and I began to feel like this was where I would be facing the horrors of the mountain. I let the beam of my flashlight traverse the expanse ahead, halting abruptly upon encountering a substantial metal door, firmly fixed to a wall at the passage. Approaching with caution, I noticed a message etched into the stone above the metal door’s frame. The message, crudely constructed read:
Gib Alle Hoffnung auf, der du hier eintrittst (Abandon all hope, you who enter here.)
A sharp breath entered my lungs as I stepped back, shocked by what I had just read. I knew the quote all too well, having read Dante’s Divine Comedy. I didn’t want to go any further, and opening the door to see what awaited me seemed futile. But as I stood before the door, I felt that I owed it to myself, my family, and the people of Schwarzdorf. Reciting a prayer, I lowered my hand to the weathered, oversized metal bolt and maneuvered it to disengage the locking mechanism securing the door to the stone wall. The door swung open with a tremendous THOOM as it made impact with the wall.
A cold, strong gust of wind flew from the open doorway, goosebumps forming on my forearms as I stepped over its threshold. The fear of the unknown coursed through my body as I continued down a long narrow passage. The tunnel felt claustrophobic and the lack of light played tricks on my eyes. The sight of the same stone walls, the same dirt floor, and the same dark emptiness caused me to feel as if I were walking in place. There was a completely different feeling to this passage, something bad had happened here.
The repetitive nature of the tunnel was broken when my light illuminated what looked like personal belongings, strewn all over the floor in front of me. Approaching the first items, I noticed their age almost immediately. They looked outdated and from another time. A multitude of personal articles, including watches, hats, shoes, socks, shirts, pants, earrings, necklaces, and various other possessions, were strewn across the ground. Try and imagine someone taking their entire wardrobe and dumping it violently on the floor. This is the scene that presented itself to me.
I experienced a sense of discomfort upon observing the cluttered floor, yet I couldn’t fully understand the underlying significance of it. Something wasn’t right deep within this mountain, but I knew it fell upon me to uncover its secrets, regardless of the fear I felt. I continued forward, the narrow passage starting to twist and turn like the banks of a river. There were belongings everywhere now, piles of people’s lively hood sheepishly stacked against the tunnel’s cold stone walls.
Then without warning, I was hit by the smell. An odor so foul that even death would recoil, entered my nostrils, causing me to stumble backward as vomit crept into my throat. Kneeling, I dry-heaved violently, immobilized by the putrid stench. What the hell is this? Where is this shit coming from?
I battled the urge to turn and run, fear taking hold of my body. I can’t keep going. Something is seriously wrong here, I thought still fighting the waves of nausea. I’ve come this far though, I know it’ll haunt me if I turn back now, I’ve got to find answers… I had made my decision, a decision I would come to regret, but with a false sense of resolve, I got to my feet and dropped my pack off my back. I dug through its contents, searching for my minuscule first aid kid. It was sitting at the bottom of my bag, ready to be opened and used. I searched through the Band-Aids, pain meds, and creams till I came across a thick gauze pad. Tearing off two pieces, I wound them up and stuffed them firmly in my nose. The stench was instantly dampened, and I felt the nausea finally starting to subside.
Gathering the strength to move, I stepped forward and once more resumed my slow walk towards the source of the small. Quicker than I had hoped, my crudely constructed nose plugs started to lose their effect, rendering me exposed to the smell again. It was stronger now, signaling my fast-approaching arrival to the source. I found another door up ahead, fixed into the wall like the last, but the sight of this door immediately tripped the not-so-silent alarms in my head.
There were large dried crimson splashes of blood staining the door’s steel surface, and beneath it were dried pools on the floor as well. I had the primal urge to run until I was far away from this place, but the curiosity inside me drove me forward. Reaching for the handle I slowly pulled the door open, releasing the strongest wave of death yet. I struggled to remain composed, an onslaught of the stench surrounding me. Bracing for a waking nightmare, my light shone into the room beyond the door, and when I realized its size, it took my breath away.
The expanse resembled an ancient hall, its length, and height unknown to me. Walking forward through the doorway, I moved my light along the room’s long walls, my eyes picking up on an abundance of identical metal doors, evenly spaced along the portions of the wall lit up by my light. As I continued forward and more walls were exposed, I saw more doors following the same mirrored fashion. It was unnerving and slightly uncanny, resembling a lost level of the backrooms.
The center of the room quickly approached and as I swung my light back to face the space in front of me, I saw a large circular pit awaiting me. I was standing near the edge and felt the wobbly sensation you experience when standing over a vast expanse. Training my light on the dark hole, I let out an audible GASP when I exposed its contents hidden by the dark.
There were thousands of bodies piled on top of one another. Men, Women, and Children were stuffed into the hole like sardines in a can, their disfigured corpses glaring back at where I stood. Snapping out of shock, I stumbled backward, slipping on the floor beneath me. As I came crashing down on my back I felt a strange texture beneath me, resting atop the floor like some laminate. My light had gone off when I fell to the ground, and I had to resort to crawling around in an all-consuming dark, inches from a vast expanse filled with corpses. My hand brushed against the metal handle of the flashlight, and I quickly grabbed it, flipping the switch to illuminate the floor.
My light shone off the dried blood that engulfed the entirety of the floor. It was everywhere, turning the floor from a pearly white to a dark gruesome shade of red. I let out a terrified scream, throwing myself to my feet while I frantically brushed away at the areas of my clothing exposed to the floor. I was bewildered, disgusted, panicked, and afraid. I was feeling a thousand emotions and couldn’t decide which to address first. I found myself standing in the blood of thousands; men, women, and children murdered and butchered relentlessly in this room. The pieces of the puzzle I had been so eager to solve fell into place seamlessly as I began to comprehend the abomination I had discovered.
That base my Oma had mentioned, was no base but an underground secret factory of death. The disappearance of Schwazdorf’s Jewish Community, the great mystery, had been solved. I had found their final resting place, and within these walls, the depravity of human nature had been on full display. The men of Schwarzdorf, my great-grandfather, had been forced to kill his neighbors at the command of the Nazi Party. I wished in this moment I hadn’t pursued my curiosity. I wished these bunkers and this chamber never existed. I hoped for many things, but none that I could control. I had brought myself here, ignored the warning signs, and would now face the consequences.
Peering over the edge once more, I let myself fully witness the crime committed here so many years ago. The brief glimpse I had of death moments earlier, its brutality, was no comparison to the prolonged gaze I maintained now. The bodies within the pit were deeply disfigured, decomposition had set in, but yet somehow their broken figures were not skeletal. I could see signs of burns, cuts, abrasions, beating, gunshot wounds, and many other forms of torture and abuse. I couldn’t bear to look at their gaunt sunken expressions, so I turned my back to the pit and let out the tears I’d attempted to keep from flowing out of my eyes.
I felt broken, my mind shattered, and this reality felt like a waking nightmare. I started to head towards the exit, my pace slow and solemn. Before exiting I came to a stop in front of the doorway, a single thought triggering a sudden internal conflict. I never looked behind the doors in the walls. Part of me wanted out, practically begging for fresh air, while the other part of me was overcome with curiosity, and wanted to continue. I realized this would likely be my final descent into this chamber, and the world I planned to share this with would need the whole story.
Veering to my right I headed straight to the first visible door in the wall. There were small glass panes embedded in the door from which I could peer into the room, but with no source of light, seeing anything through them was impossible. I tried the first handle but to my surprise, it was locked. I moved to the next door and tried the handle. Same outcome as the last time. The third door I came to was cracked open, allowing me to enter the dark chamber. My flashlight hit the darkness and parted it, exposing a large industrial oven. The floor beneath it had piles of belongings, like the tunnel outside this chamber, and it took me no more than a second to understand what went down there.
Stepping back through the doorway, I slammed the door shut and moved to open the next door. This door was unlocked and when I opened it, my light showed me a room full of tools and surgical devices. Lined up against the back wall were six metal tables. Dried blood decorated their surfaces, indicating the atrocities performed in this room. I was beginning to have enough, my head was throbbing, and my eyes were dry from crying. I needed to leave soon, it felt like I was starting to lose my mind. The end of the wall loomed ahead, and with each open door, I peered through the same gruesome picture of murder and despair that was put on display. Turning to face the chamber’s back wall, I moved my light slowly across its surface, a message coming into focus, having been concealed by the darkness. In the center of the wall was a message written in large almost comical letters. It read DIE TOTEN (THE DEAD) and covering the wall beneath it were thousands of small almost unrecognizable tally marks.
Another wave of nausea washed over me when I realized the number of people killed in this room tallied into the tens of thousands. This operation here had taken place on an unimaginable scale, and as I stood in the center trying to comprehend its significance my mind broke. I screamed violently, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. I was standing around the remains of thousands of men, women, and children who had their lives brutally ended here because of some psychopath’s wicked agenda. The perpetrators, those responsible for these horrific atrocities, had escaped and managed to hide their crimes deep within this mountain. I was furious, overwhelmed, depressed, and stressed, and my emotions were splintering and shattering causing me to spiral at an even faster pace. My heart was pounding in my throat, and with hesitation, I was bolting for the exit. Stumbling through the doorway, I ran through the piles of personal belongings left to rot, my tears blurring the light that guided my escape.
I don’t recall much from this point forward, other than the descent up the cold metal ladder. The frantic nature of my escape had rendered me helpless, and the exhaustive amount of external stimulation had caused my short-term memory to fade. How I managed to retrace my steps and make it to the ladder, is still unbeknownst to me, but I thank God I could find my way back. When I arrived at the lip of the manhole, it was still dark out, but the sounds of nature waking had started. I pulled myself onto the surface of the concrete structure, and inhaled deeply, allowing the fresh air to calm my disturbed demeanor.
It felt like I had just crawled out of the depths of hell, and based on what I found, I might as well call the depths of this mountain hell. Crouching back down, I lowered myself onto the bed of leaves and heaved the metal lid back onto the concrete chimney. With the lid firmly back in place, I took one last look at the Swazstika which to me was just a relic of history but now meant something far more sinister. The rage I felt toward the people responsible was uncontrollable. I wanted to expose their secrets to the world, I wanted everyone to know of the evils that took place here, and I wanted to give those who were forced to participate the platform to tell their stories. The men of this town became victims alongside the Jewish Community. They all had their lives as they knew it ended in this mountain. Whether they made it out to see the daylight or remained in the dark for eternity, they all died down there as the collateral of a wicked dictator. I’ll have to get rid of these clothes, there is no good explanation for how I look right now. Pulling off my boots, I opened the back door and stepped onto the green carpet of the second floor. I b-lined it for the bathroom, and practically dove into the shower, my body language changing drastically as the warm water flowed over me. I had seen unexplainable atrocities, witnessed the calculated extermination of a community, and finally understood why the Nazis were always painted as so ruthless and evil. I had seen unexplainable atrocities, witnessed the calculated extermination of a community, and finally understood why the Nazis were always painted as so ruthless and evil.
I had only laid in bed for 30 minutes before I heard my Oma getting out of bed, signaling the start of the day. With sleep eluding me, and the confines of the room feeling inconsequential, I decided to rise from bed, dress, and descend the stairs. My Oma was preparing early morning coffee, and as I entered the kitchen and saw her smiling to herself while humming a foreign tune, I realized I couldn’t speak to her about what I found. The horror of it, and the implications it had on the reason her father killed himself would crush her. Hiding the pain I felt, I told her good morning and grabbed a cup to take with me to the living room. The couch was unbelievably comfortable and allowed me to sink into its arms. I closed my eyes and immediately saw the bodies, their disfigured faces staring into my soul. With each passing moment, they got closer and closer, reaching out to where I stood at the edge of the pit. I suddenly snapped back into consciousness, my breathing labored, a cold sweat sprouting on my neck.
I needed to tell someone about this, there had to be some way I could get this turmoil building in me out. Grabbing my bag from upstairs, I walked onto the patio and plopped down in one of the chairs. The sun cast rays of warmth on my face as I opened my computer and prepared a fresh document. Within seconds I had begun to write, my fingers flying effortlessly over the keys. I came to a stopping point and headed back inside for lunch. My whole family greeted me as I walked into the dining room, their calm joyous demeanor offputting when compared to the storm brewing inside me. I asked everyone how they slept, knowing full well I hadn’t slept a minute the night before. Their responses informed me they had no idea I had snuck out, and I intended for it to stay that way.
I didn’t have anything else noteworthy happen to me for the remainder of the trip, but to say it was far from peaceful was an understatement. I had recurring nightmares of blood, corpses, and heinous acts. Throughout the last week, my outlook on life had become bleak, and I felt myself falling into deep despair. My curiosity on this trip had gotten the better of me, and now I had to deal with the consequences. I wished I would have stopped at the door. The smell alone should have been an obvious sign, but I didn’t listen. My father always told me that I didn’t know best, no matter how much I thought I did, and forever I wish I would have listened.
I arrived back home two weeks before the rest of my family, the nightmares and constant feelings of sadness ever-present. I spent a great deal of time writing and contemplating what I had found. The implications were overwhelming, and believe it or not the thing I feared most was telling the world. I could almost imagine myself finally building the courage to go public, only to be confronted by men standing at my window in black suits. There was a reason the the Devil’s Chamber had been hidden for so long, and in this case, it was probably better to let stay that way.
Against my better judgment though, I decided to finish the account I had started the morning after my discoveries. It took me a couple of weeks to write the first part, and after careful consideration, I chose Reddit as the platform for my expose. Some would think posting to Reddit was a mistake, but in my mind, the outrageous claim I was going to make, could easily be considered another act of fiction, saving my ass in the process. The first part was well received and the comments of deep concern and caution were more than comforting. I realized that though this discovery sounds like something out of a post from r/Nosleep, I had found people who would believe me and could help me process this information. If I were to unleash something dangerous or bring about a history-changing event, at least I would have the support of the public. Reddit was the platform that made me feel safe and allowed me to finally open up about the trauma I’ve endured since my discovery.
If you are reading this, I ask you to comment your thoughts on what I found. I am still trying to make sense of it, and hope that one of you out there can help me to figure out my next steps. Am I in danger? Did I cross a line? I need to know ASAP because if this story makes it to the wrong hands I could be facing life-threatening adversaries. The whole reason I chose to post on Reddit is because of the community, and now I ask you for that help, I need guidance and I can’t seek anyone professionally. I’ve uncovered a dark secret, hidden to time, and now I, as well as you, must tread lightly.