Contents

Contents

1. Title Page

2. Copyright

3. Part 1

4. Part 2

5. Part 3

6. Thank You

Devil’s Grotto

By Susanne Schmidt

All Rights Reserved, 2022.

Also by Susanne Schmidt:

What May Rise From The Ashes

Words Like Promises

DEVIL’S GROTTO © 2022 by Susanne Schmidt

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Published by Susanne Schmidt

Einsteinring 6

90453 Nuremberg, Germany

Cover by Susanne Schmidt

All Rights Reserved.

Part 1

We found the cave in the woods toward the end of third grade, on a Saturday, with the summer holidays just two weeks away.

The morning sun beamed golden rays through my window and my guinea pigs, proudly named after the comic book heroes Asterix and Obelix, were busy chewing last night’s hay in their corner of my bedroom. After the rainfall of the last few days, a balmy breeze entered through the open windows and stirred the wind chimes that hung from the wooden ceiling. I was lying on my sofa, stomach full from a late lunch. When the doorbell rang, I was still contemplating whether I should play with the neighbors' kids, who were a few years younger, or just stay in the garden, enjoy the sun and read a book.

“Lelia, it's for you!”, my mother yelled.

“Coming!”, I yelled back, and happily abandoned all thoughts of a quiet weekend when I saw Maja waiting in the hallway downstairs.

My best friend since before I could remember, Maja was a year older than me, with light blond hair and a gorgeous smile. Far more confident than me, far more charming, even though she hid a vicious streak.

In kindergarten, she developed an obsession with princesses, but she told me princesses had to be blond, so I couldn’t be one. She had meant it as an insult, but it suited me just fine, since I was more interested in the sword she kept in her room, made from cardboard and aluminum foil.

She also convinced me that spiders were the most disgusting creatures on the planet and we practiced our panicked screams whenever we saw one in her basement or our shed. Of course, by the time we found the cave, she had gotten over her fear of spiders just fine, while I was settled with crippling arachnophobia. But despite these breaches of trust, Maja could do no wrong. I worshipped her.

“Wanna come out to play?”, she asked and smiled, knowing I would never say no to her.

I shouted a hasty goodbye to my parents and grabbed my shoes.

We left my house, and spent an hour riding our bikes through the quiet streets of our village, trying to think of a masterplan of what to do with the day. No aim, no goals, just us, and the long weekend ahead.

“I could go for some sweets at the bakery,” I said dreamily. I never had any money to afford them, and wasn’t supposed to have sweets anyway, according to my mother, a fact of which Maja was well aware.

“Oh, we could do that. I'll buy some, but what do we do after?”

“I don't know...”
“Want to go to my house and watch TV?”

“I don't know...”

In truth, I knew very well. Maja's TV only had 5 channels and we would end up watching Baywatch again, like every weekend, and I very much wanted to avoid that.

“What else is there?”, she asked.
“Should we ask Anja if she wants to play with us?”
Anja was my other best friend. Maja's smile faded a little around the edges.

“Um...okay, I guess,” she drawled. “But let's go to the bakery first. I don't have enough money for three.”

Greedy for candy, I didn’t object.

*

With our cravings for gummy bears and chocolate satisfied, we soon found ourselves outside the high metal gate of Anja's house. A slender girl with long braided hair and huge trusting eyes, she walked towards us smiling, her bike at her side.

“Where to?”, she asked, carefully closing the gate behind her, so their landlord's rottweilers wouldn't decide to come out and play, too.

“How about the Ship?”, I ventured.

The Ship, a large wooden jungle gym which resembled a sailboat, was the largest playground in the area. Since neither of my friends came up with a better idea, we mounted our bikes, crossed Main Street and passed several streets with nothing but boring houses. All tidy, white or gray with their red rooftops, their windows open to let in the warm air.

The Ship was located in a valley by the river, where green meadows and tall pine trees replaced the houses. By the time we reached the playground, we had been riding in the sun long enough to be drenched in sweat. The playground was bursting with toddlers and their mothers, even though the metal railings felt hot enough to fry eggs.

“I don't want to get my clothes dirty,” declared Maja and took a seat on a swing.

Anja and I, much less concerned about our appearances, played around on the slides for a while, before we climbed on board and pretended to steer the huge metal wheel at the Ship’s rear. When the smaller kids complained about us hogging it, we descended into the belly below, and after some deliberation we climbed the masts, declaring ourselves daring pirate princesses at sea. But even that game could not cure our restlessness. Made worse perhaps by prim Maja who watched us with arched eyebrows and the sort of amused boredom we affected toward much younger kids.

Shifting in her seat as we sat down next to her, sweating and panting, Maja lifted her face into the sky, where the clouds floated by above the tree tops.

“What next?”, she asked.

“Wish I knew,” said Anja and smiled.

“Why does nothing ever happen here?”, I groaned.

We stared off into the distance. I started to daydream of adventure, of quests exciting enough to involve swords and magic, when Maja suddenly jumped from the swing, excited.

“Have you guys ever heard of the Devil’s Grotto?”

“What?”, I asked, coming alert.

Maja lowered her voice as if she feared being overheard.

“My brother told me about it.”
Anja laughed.

“And you believed him?”
“Well, this one’s true.”

“What story?”, I asked, holding my breath.

“It’s a cave in the woods behind the old mill. You’ve probably never heard of it, because it’s hidden in the forest. We’d have to follow the stream from the mill to find it.”

“Way more exciting than this place,” I said, glaring at the overcrowded Ship. Besides, caves meant treasures. And possibly dragons.

“Lelia, it's just another of Dorian's stupid stories. And there’s weird people in those woods.” Anja shuddered.

“Can’t we just take a look?”, I pleaded.

“It's kind of a long way from here, though” drawled Maja, baiting me.

“Come on! We can finally have an adventure!”
I was practically jumping up and down by now.

“Okay, I guess,” said Maja, smiling. “But it was your idea.”
Anja sighed, knowing she had lost this round.

“We'll end up bored in the woods with no cave in sight. Just like when he told us about the mountain lion, or the dead body in the creek.”

“But we had fun, trying to find it. And you still don’t have a better explanation for how all that foam got there, do you?” I asked her.

At Anja’s tired shrug, I started walking to our bikes.

Part 2

When we arrived at the river, which separated us from the mill and the hilly forests behind it, we found it swollen from nearly a week of rain. We dismounted and pushed our bikes across the wooden bridge, watching the water rush by beneath the planks until we stepped on to the ancient cobblestones around the mill. Weeds pushed through the cracks of the pavement and the mill’s sandstone buildings seemed to be deserted. Nothing moved in the haze between the carefully renovated houses, black shingle roofs baked in the sun. A lone butterfly fluttered across a wooden fence, a car clattered by on the nearby street. Behind the mill, the first trees of the forest loomed, a foreboding sight.

Ever torn between my thirst for adventure and a coward’s instincts, I shivered.

“It’s dark here,” I said.

Maja nodded solemnly while Anja rolled her eyes.

“It's just trees. Lots of them. It's the druggies you have to look out for, says my sister.”

Anja's sister, Bea, was three years older than us, and unlike Dorian and his stories, Bea was a person you could trust to know what was going on. I shrunk back from the trees.

“Think they'll be in there now, the druggies?”

“Nah, they only come out at night. Otherwise the cops would catch them.”

“Uh…Great I guess. Then there’s really no reason not to do this. Unless you guys think…”, I took another good look at the dark fir trees and the even darker shadows beneath them, hoping one of them would offer me a way out with my pride intact. “We could always go back if you're afraid, Anja?”

Anja shook her head in denial, the braid bouncing around her shoulders.

“I'm fine. I just think it's stupid.”

Maja started walking towards the trees and we followed.

“Guys, let’s do this,” Maja said, walking toward the trees. “Let’s find this cave before it does get dark.”

I quickened my pace until I caught up with her, pushing my bike along the sandy path that started up behind the houses and led into the forest.

“What do you mean, before it gets dark? What happens then?”
“Uh, didn’t you listen? That's when the druggies--”, started Anja.

Maja interrupted her with a loud and dramatic sigh.

“That's when the weird things start to happen. In the stories--”

“Since they're Dorian's stories, is there a ghost of a mountain lion involved?”, asked Anja.

Maja sent her a seething look and then continued.

“It's NOT a mountain lion, thank you.”

“Then what?”, I asked with fascinated horror.

We entered the woods and the path continued alongside a gurgling forest creek. The trail had fallen into disuse and we had to duck under tree branches and climb over roots and also maneuver our bikes across them. After a few minutes, the trees receded again and we arrived at a large clearing, divided by the narrow creek. On the other side of the stream stood the remains of an abandoned restaurant, all withered walls and broken windows. With the musk of the forest wafting around us, I wondered who would have ever wanted to sit under the faded parasols still stored in heaps around its overgrown backyard. In the distance, coming from the mill, the sound of a saw shrilled through the dusty air.

“This is creepy.”
“It's the cave’s influence,” breathed Maja.
“What does the cave have to do with some old restaurant?” Anja asked, arching her eyebrows at our superstitions.

“It's the Devil's Grotto, remember? It's evil.”
“Wait! It's evil?”, I stopped in my tracks. “Then why are we going there?”

Maja cocked her head to one side, arms akimbo.

“Um-- because you wanted to see it? Are you too scared to go now?”

“Am not! But why is it called the Devil's Grotto? Why is it evil?”

I had to wait for Maja’s answer, because we reached the creek and had to balance across the only bridge provided: Two wooden planks, which creaked alarmingly under our weight. But luck was on our side and we made it safely across. On the other side of the stream, a muddy path led deeper into the woods. The sounds from the street over by the mill had stopped, and all we heard was the gurgling creek and the whispers of the wind in the trees.

“Maja, this place is really creeping me out!”

I cast a worried glance at the leafy darkness in front of us.

“SHHH! Careful what you say! We're on cursed ground now,” hissed Maja.

“Really, just from crossing the stream?”, asked Anja with a sarcastic undertone.

“Wait! I know!”, I exclaimed, excited again. “Running water! It’s supposed to prevent evil spirits from crossing to the other side. That’s why, right?”

“SHHHH!”, Maja reminded me. But then nodded, her face solemn.

“Yes, it's the creek. The evil from the grotto can't cross it.”

“But there is a bridge right here,” said Anja. “We've just crossed it. Are you saying the devil is too stupid to cross a bridge?”

“Not the devil, obviously. But the evil spirits that haunt the cave.”

“Why? What happened at the Cave?”, I asked, wishing we had had this discussion earlier, in the safety of the playground.

Maja's voice dropped to a whisper and we inadvertently moved closer.

“Dorian says an evil man lived here. Alone. In the woods.”

“What’d he do?”, I breathed.

“SHHHH! Dorian also said you shouldn't tell the story on this side of the creek, because the man can hear you.”

I stared at the forest, alarmed, but all I could see was darkness between the trees.

“He’s still here?”
“His ghost is. And ever since he died, this place has been cursed. It all happened long ago, in the middle ages, when they first built the mill. The families who settled the area had only just finished building their houses when their daughters started disappearing, always young girls. Another after another.”

“How? The mill is on the other side of the creek. I thought evil couldn't cross it,” said Anja, ever skeptical.

“But the man was alive then! So he could have crossed it. Besides, at first no one knew there was a bad man in the woods. They thought a wolf or a bear might have taken those girls. The children would go in the woods, to pick berries and mushrooms, or even to snare some rabbits. Or sometimes just to play.”

Maja glanced at Anja, waiting for another snide comment, but the resident sceptic remained silent.

“Like us...”, I whispered into the silence.

Maja nodded sadly.

“Exactly. That’s why I didn't want to come here. But you insisted.”

“We could turn back; forget we ever--”, I offered in a hopeful voice.

“No! That’s how you draw his attention! The man will know we were here and that we were afraid. We have to go and find the cave now, otherwise he'll be able to follow us home.”
I shuddered.

“But the bridge?”

She shook her head.

“We entered his woods. That means we invited him to cross the water and find us.”

“Lots of people walk into these woods every day,” said Anja. “Druggies, dogwalkers, hikers, and I’ve never heard about anyone disappearing around here.”
“He’s only after young girls. He never took anyone else, even back when he was alive,” Maja replied.

I bit my lip and tried not to look too closely at the forest, seeing threatening silhouettes everywhere. Even the rustle of the leaves sounded ominous.

“The girls he took, what’d he do to them?”, I whispered through a parched throat.

Maja shrugged.

“The people from the mill found their bodies in the grotto, but they kept it a secret what exactly the man did. Dorian thinks he was following some kind of ritual to give himself magic powers, to live on after death. And he succeeded. The villagers killed him and buried him in the woods, but he returned as a spirit.”

“We should never have come here,” I whispered.

“Told you so,” Maja said. “But we can save ourselves. We just need to find the grotto before nightfall.”

“But won't that make it easier for him to find us?”, asked Anja. “We’d be entering his territory.”

“He only hunts you if you’re afraid. If you go to the cave where he killed the girls – then you prove you're not afraid.”

“What if we don’t make it?”

“Then he'll have gotten us. But he isn’t as strong during the day. It's at night that he's really dangerous. We should be fine. We just need to follow the stream.”

“So we go to the cave, then what?”

“We have to draw a cross for each of us on the cave's walls as proof we were there.”
“Draw? With what? I didn't bring any pens!”

“With water.” Maja smiled. “As I said, we just need to follow the stream. It’s supposed to flow right by the grotto. Let’s get going, though. Dorian said it’s still a long walk.”

We looked at the path, diverging from the stream just behind the tree line.

“You sure it’s even the right path?”, Anja asked.
“According to Dorian, it’s supposed to swerve back to the stream a little way in.” Maja sighed.
“Fantastic,” muttered Anja. “So reassuring!”

*

The path meandered through the woods for what seemed like an eternity. We trudged through mud and flailed our arms to keep away the relentless mosquitoes. Fly swarms darted through the air, and every once in a while a strange sound would filter through the trees from far away. No bird sang in these woods and the wind had ceased, the air grew increasingly damp and hot. Soon we had to leave our bikes behind. We locked them and continued on, wading almost knee-deep in the mud.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god, this is so disgusting!”, Maja complained, with a face like she had just taken a bite out of a lemon with every step she took into the mud.

“No choice but to keep going,” I said.

“My mom will kill me when she sees my pants!”, she whimpered.

“You’re not getting any cleaner if we turn around.” I tried to get rid of the sweat on my forehead with my sleeve and only succeeded in smearing it across my face.

“I thought this would be fun, but it’s way too much effort for such a stupid story,” Maja said.

I bit my lip. So she never believed what she had told us, she just knew that my imagination would never be able to resist turning this into an adventure. Feeling vaguely used, I turned around to her.

“And what if it’s not just some story? What if it’s true? And the moment we turn around, the evil man gets us? I’m not going to risk it, Maja. Are you?”

“Next time let's just stay at the Ship,” said Anja.

For once even Maja didn't object. We struggled on, until a massive black spider crossed our path. Maja squealed and jerked away from it. When she was a few meters away from the crawling nightmare, she stopped, her face pale.

“That's it! There's mud, spiders and mosquitoes. Look at me; I'm filthy!”

“But what about the cave?”, I asked, bewildered.
“It’s just one of Dorian’s stupid stories! Like the mountain lion!”

“What if it isn’t though?”, I insisted, glancing at Anja.

I was still curious whether we would actually find a cave in these woods, but now I was afraid they would both desert me, and I wasn’t brave enough to continue on into the woods on my own. Anja gave me a barely perceptible nod. Maja threw up her hands in frustration.
“Fine! You two go on like idiots. Have fun looking for a cave that was never even there in the first place! I'm going home. Maybe I’ll still catch the last episode of the Baywatch marathon!”

She looked at us expectantly, but I shook my head. If the only other option was to watch David Hasselhoff rescue yet another blond beach babe, I would continue on this path even if I had to swim through the mud. But of course I couldn't say so. Instead I shrugged and looked at Anja with what I hoped were pleading eyes. Anja shrugged in response.
“I’m in if you want to go on...”

Maja realized that she had lost this battle and took her leave. We watched in silence as she stalked away, back the way we had come from. Her blond hair was speckled with mud and hung in wild strands. The sweat stains on her pink T-shirt were a comforting prove that she wasn't the immaculate beauty queen she was always pretending to be. The squelch-squelch of her shoes in the mud grew fainter and fainter, and when she finally turned around the next corner, it was as if she had never been there at all. Silence surrounded us.

Part 3

“Should we go on?”, asked Anja after a while.

“Yeah, I guess...Think it's dangerous for her to go back alone?”

“It's a story Lelia, she just wanted us scared.”
I sighed. “Let's hope so.”

We continued our struggle through the mud and were finally rewarded when the forest started to change. A steep hill, covered in fallen leaves and dry pine-needles rose to our left, while to our right the forest floor fell softly into what looked like swampy terrain. Juicy green moss covered the ground.

The playful sounds of gurgling and splashing water, which came from further ahead, told us that the creek did indeed rejoin the path. Much wider than it had been at the bridge, it flowed smoother and slower. Moss and ferns grew on both banks. Laughing at our unexpected success, we gained new strength and walked faster. The path curved to the right, away from the hill, following the course of the creek.

“Wait!”, I said, and stopped, staring up the hill. “What's that?”

Anja grinned.

“I’d say the legendary Devil's Grotto.”

We more or less crawled up the steep slope, covering every scrap of ourselves in forest floor, until we had reached the rocky top.

“Wow, it really is a cave!”, I gaped at the grotto’s dark entrance.

Anja grinned.

“So much for Dorian’s stories never holding any truth.”

“So... What do you think? About the rest of the story, I mean.”

Anja shrugged.

“Don’t see why we shouldn’t just draw the crosses, since we’re already here.”
“Not really keen on going inside, though,” I muttered while eying the mouth of the cave.

Thoughts of dragons and monsters haunted my mind. And spiders. I could ignore them when they crossed my path somewhere in the forest, provided I could run away from them, but I panicked at the thought of being stuck in a cave while they crawled down from the root-covered ceilings. Anja laughed at my reluctance.

“Lelia Wannabe Hero, you made me walk all this way, and I’m going to need to see what’s inside the evil cave! We’re going in or I’m telling everyone in our class that you’re a little chickenshit on Monday.”

I started laughing out loud at her dead-serious tone and the venomous threat. Still giggling, we slid back down the hill. We didn’t have any water bottles, but decided that drawing the crosses with mud from the stream would still satisfy the requirement since it contained lots of water. Soon we found a little clearing where the creek was even wider, because it fell from a tiny waterfall into a deep pool.

“This is so cool! We should come here more often,” I said, all fears forgotten at the prospect of getting to play around in the mud. “It could be like our secret hideout.”
Anja arched an eyebrow at my announcement.

“It's a bit far away to do this all the time. And a bit complicated to get to. Maja’s right, we’ll be in so much trouble with our moms.”

She gestured at her dirty clothes, and realizing she was right, the initial excitement seeped out of me, while my mind scrambled for new solutions. Perhaps we could bring our bathing suits, or rain pants, but the prospect of trudging through the woods in plastic pants seemed even less appealing than never coming back at all. I let my shoulders droop.

“Then let’s at least come back here after we've done the cross thing?”

Anja nodded with a tight smile on her face, knowing I had been trying to convince my parents to let me have a sand pit I could flood in our backyard for years, even though I was really getting too old for it.
Anja and I scooped up two handfuls of mud from the ground and walked back to the foot of the hill, where we began the steep ascent once more. The soft forest floor swallowed the sounds of our steps, but our gasping breaths echoed around us.

“If the bad man really existed, he’d have found us by now,” said Anja in a dry tone.

She entered the cave, and after a few moments came back to the cave mouth to give me the all clear.

“No spiders as far as I can tell. But the druggies know about this place, too.”

*

The cave itself was unexciting. No self-respecting dragon would ever choose to live in this little hole in the earth. The ceiling hung low and there were only three small interconnected chambers. Various spray paintings covered the gray rock face of the walls, cigarette buds and empty bottles covered the floor. The stuffy air smelled of wet earth and rotting leaves, and something which I chose not to identify.

“Ew.”

“Let's draw the crosses and get out of here,” said Anja. I nodded my approval.

We quickly found ourselves a clear spot on one of the walls, at least it seemed to be clear as far as we could tell in the twilight.

“Next time let’s bring a flashlight.”

“Ugh, yeah I don’t think so.” Anja chuckled and shook her head. “I’ve had enough of this place.”

We both laughed which chased away my lingering unease as we hastily drew the crosses and climbed out as fast as we could.

“Place smelled funky.”

“Someone probably had too much to drink and didn't make it out in time.”

I shuddered.

“Yup. Let's never do that again. Ever.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon playing on the banks of the creek, building little mud castles and figures with clay we found near the waterfall. When the sun's rays transformed the water of the stream into liquid gold, we realized it was time to leave.

Half-eager, half-reluctant, we returned to the path and retraced our steps. The return trip didn't feel nearly as long as coming here had. Our bikes remained locked to the tree where we had left them; only Maja's was gone.

“Think she's finished watching Baywatch by now?”, I asked, still a little sad that Maja missed out on the mud castle extravaganza by the creek. But really, it was her own fault.

Anja shrugged.

“Who cares?”

Slowly we reached the outskirts of the forest, where the trees grew further apart and a few rays of sunlight managed to touch the ground. Once again we arrived at the creek and had to balance our way across the wooden planks. When we were safely on the other side, we gazed at each other, grins widening as we took in the full impact of our appearance. Both of us were drenched in sweat, pine-needles stuck out of Anja's braid and my own hair resembled a bird's nest. Our faces were encrusted in mud and our clothes looked like we had crawled through a swamp. Our moms would probably have heart attacks once they saw us, but for now it felt good. Like an achievement. The successful end of an exciting quest.

Still laughing, I glanced back at the forest, but my smile faded quickly when something caught my eye. I blinked at the creek.

“What's wrong, Lelia?”

“Nothing... Um - What's that pink thing floating in the water over there?”

I pointed at it. It was only a few meters away. Anja shrugged and mounted her bike.

“Probably some plastic bag.”

Unconvinced, I continued to stare. Anja sighed.

“Stop it, Lelia, you’re creeping me out. Enough adventures for today, okay? Let’s just go home. Please? I want the forest out of my hair.”

Swallowing my dread, I nodded and tore my eyes away, mounting my bike as well. We pedaled home in silence, basking in the amused looks our mud-spattered faces drew from old couples out on their evening stroll.

*

My mom nearly fainted when she opened the door. Narrowing her eyes at the state of my clothes, she told me to walk around the house into the back yard instead, where she used the garden hose to wash off the worst of the mud before allowing me back inside. The guinea pigs watched with wide eyes from the safety of their enclosure, nibbling on grass and bathing in the warmth of the late afternoon sun. I complained about my mosquito bites in the hope of being comforted, but my mother took no pity.

“Serves you right, after carelessly running around in the woods. Personally, I’m more worried about ticks.”

I squealed as the water from the hose suddenly turned much colder and Mom sprayed me once more for good measure before walking over to turn it off. The early evening went by while I cleaned my bike and rinsed my clothes and shoes. Finally I took a real shower and washed my hair.

When I came back outside, my parents were already sitting on the terrace, having dinner. I was in the middle of recounting my adventures when the phone rang. Our smiles faded.

“I'll get it.”

My mom sighed and walked into the house while I shifted uneasily in my seat. My dad returned to his dinner, but I had lost my appetite. I leaned back in my chair, trying to hear what my mom was saying on the phone. Her tone sounded animated, and hectic, then turned soothing before she hung up with a deep frown. Our eyes met and she pursed her lips, like she was about to lecture me.

“Who was it?”, anxious though as far as I knew I shouldn’t be in any trouble.

“Didn't you say Maja left early to go home?”

“Yeah. She wanted to watch Baywatch.”

“When was that?”

“I don't know... Around three thirty maybe? Her bike was gone, too, when we picked up ours... Maybe around half past five?”

Mom's frown deepened.

“Mom? What’s going on?”

My voice rose higher when a note of panic entered it. Mom's hand tightened around the plastic receiver. She nodded and went back inside, already dialing a number.

“Mom?”

She looked back at me and tried for a reassuring smile.

“It's probably nothing, Lelia.”

“Who called just now?”

She sighed.

“Maja's mom. Maja hasn't come home.”

***

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