Elena, Mila, and Henk venture into the dark staircase beneath Het Park. What they find will challenge their understanding of the city's past, and draw them further into the secrets of De Verborgenen.
A Rotterdam Story | Spoilers Podcast | S1E3
If you're a fan of spoilers, listen to the latest podcast episode, in which our hosts discuss and analyse the events of this chapter.
Descending into darkness
The first few steps into the staircase were tight, the air growing cooler with each descent. The sound of the metal plate being dragged back into place above them was the last reminder of the world above—leaving only darkness to embrace them. Elena's heart pounded, the chill seeping through her coat. Henk led the way, holding a small flashlight that cast a dim glow over the rough stone walls, while Mila stayed close behind Elena, her breathing shallow.
The staircase seemed endless, winding down into the earth. The walls were damp, and a faint echo of dripping water followed them as they descended. Elena tried to steady her breath, the sense of being completely cut off from the outside world making her pulse quicken.
“Are we sure about this?” Mila’s voice broke the silence, a nervous laugh in her words.
Henk glanced back, his expression a mix of determination and excitement. “I’ve waited decades for a moment like this,” he whispered, his voice almost reverent. “We’re getting close, I can feel it.”
Elena swallowed her fear and nodded, pressing on. It wasn’t just curiosity that drove her—it was the feeling that somehow, the city itself had pulled her here, demanding she uncover whatever lay beneath.
The hidden chamber
After what felt like an eternity, the staircase finally gave way to an open chamber. Henk's flashlight swept across the space, revealing old stone arches and a large wooden door set into the far wall. Symbols, similar to those on the map, were etched into the stone above the door—intricate spirals and the unmistakable carved ‘R’ of De Verborgenen.
Henk stepped forward, his gaze locked on the symbols. “These are real,” he muttered, almost to himself. He traced his fingers over the carvings, his face illuminated in the dim glow. “This place must have been one of their meeting spots—look at the craftsmanship, the detail.”
Elena approached the door, her hand hovering over the aged wood. It felt wrong to disturb it, as though they were intruding on something sacred. She looked at Mila, who gave her an encouraging nod, though her eyes betrayed her own apprehension.
Henk placed his hands against the door and pushed, but it refused to move. He frowned, pressing harder, his shoulders straining. “It’s stuck,” he said, a hint of frustration in his voice. Mila moved closer, running her hand over the carvings.
“Wait,” she said, her finger stopping at a small etching of a windmill. “This… it looks like it needs to be turned.” She pointed at a barely noticeable, rotatable disk carved into the door, shaped like a classic Dutch windmill, its blades etched with numbers ranging from 1 to 12.
The blades themselves were numbered 0, 3, 4, and 1—seemingly without any apparent order. They examined the setup for a moment, trying a few random alignments, but nothing happened. Henk frowned as the frustration built.
Mila looked thoughtful, her gaze lingering on the carved numbers. Then suddenly her eyes lit up. “What if it’s significant to the history of Rotterdam?” she said. “City rights for Rotterdam? The year 1340.”
Henk studied the windmill etching carefully, then turned the blades to match. He aligned them so that the blades fit into the corresponding slots: 1, 3, 4, 0.
At first, nothing happened, and Elena felt her breath hitch in anticipation. Then, slowly, a faint click echoed through the chamber, and the mechanism released.
“Of course,” Henk murmured, a smile of admiration crossing his face. “They would have used an important date from Rotterdam’s history. Ingenious.”
Henk pressed against the door again, and this time it gave way, the wood creaking as it moved, the sound echoing in the chamber. The door slowly swung open, revealing a darkness that seemed even deeper than the one they had left behind.
Secrets revealed
The room beyond was larger than Elena expected, and as Henk swept his flashlight across the space, something glittered. It was a table, covered in dusty but ornate objects—brass compasses, maps, and a collection of glass vials, each containing what looked like dried herbs or minerals. Elena’s eyes widened as she approached the table, her fingers brushing against one of the vials, its surface cool and fragile.
“This… this is incredible,” Mila said, her voice echoing softly. She reached for one of the maps, unfurling it carefully. It showed a version of Rotterdam she barely recognised—an old city, crisscrossed with canals that no longer existed, landmarks that had either vanished or been transformed.
Henk’s eyes were alight with wonder. “These must have been their tools—things they used to navigate, to communicate. The Hidden Ones were known for their knowledge of alchemy and navigation.” He picked up a brass compass, its needle still quivering as though it had only just been disturbed after centuries of stillness.
Elena studied the symbols on the map, her brow furrowing. One mark, in particular, caught her attention—a spot near Noordereiland. It is a small island in the middle of the Nieuwe Maas river. The island is known for its picturesque views of Rotterdam's skyline. Historically, it served as a shipbuilding hub. The spot was circled and marked with the carved ‘R’. “This must be important,” she said, showing it to Henk.
Henk nodded, his excitement palpable. “It could be another meeting place. Or something they hid—something valuable.”
Mila, who had been examining the vials, spoke up. “I think these were meant for some kind of ritual. Look at how they’re arranged—almost like an offering.” She looked at Henk, her eyes wide. “What if this place wasn’t just for meetings? What if they practised something here?”
Elena shivered, a chill running down her spine. The air felt thicker now, as though the room itself were aware of their presence. “We should document this,” she said, her voice steadying as she took out her phone. She began taking pictures, the flash briefly lighting up the dark corners of the chamber.
Henk smiled, nodding approvingly. “Good idea. The world needs to see this—it’s part of Rotterdam’s history, a part that’s been buried for too long.”
A sudden noise
Just as Elena lowered her phone, a noise echoed from the staircase—a faint, rhythmic tapping, growing louder with each passing second. She froze, her heart pounding. The others heard it too, their eyes widening.
“Is someone else down here?” Mila whispered, her voice barely audible.
Henk turned towards the door, his face suddenly serious. “We need to leave. Now,” he said, his voice urgent. He motioned for them to move, his flashlight flickering slightly as he hurried towards the staircase.
Elena’s stomach churned with fear, but she forced herself to move, her eyes darting towards the source of the sound. It was getting closer. Whoever—or whatever—it was, they had no intention of meeting it. She grabbed Mila's hand, pulling her towards the stairs, Henk leading the way.
As they began their ascent, the tapping grew louder, echoing through the stone chamber. Elena didn't dare look back. The darkness below seemed to reach for them, the unknown pressing against their backs as they climbed, step by step, back towards the world above.
