Ghosts of the Holocaust: The Secret of the Abandoned Frankfurt Shelter

Moving to Germany and the Beginning of Suffering

I will dive straight into the story: My name is Mohamed, I am 43 years old, and I live in a small village near Frankfurt, Germany. I am originally from the Asyut Governorate in Egypt, where I used to work as a primary school teacher. One day, I met a German tourist. We fell for each other and decided to get married. That's how it happened; we got married, and I moved to live with her in Germany.

Honestly, my life changed drastically after migrating. Back in Egypt, life was quite difficult, and I wasn't able to help my parents financially. But now, I manage to send them money every month, allowing them to live a decent and comfortable life. As I mentioned, I used to teach young children in an elementary school. When I first arrived in Germany, life was tough at the beginning. I couldn't get used to the weather quickly because it was always freezing. The people here rarely smiled and didn't seem to welcome foreigners, mostly because this village was very small. But whenever I went to a slightly larger city on weekends, I would find some relief — there were people speaking Arabic, Syrians and Moroccans — and that honestly made me very happy.

The Search for Work and the Unexpected Opportunity

Anyway, that first year was extremely difficult, given that I was still learning German. My wife, to her credit, was helping me pick up the language as fast as possible, which made adapting to German society much easier. I was searching for work but couldn't find any. Every job I applied for, they would tell me: "You need to speak at least some German," and I barely had any English, let alone German. Honestly, I wanted to do what I knew — teaching young children — because I genuinely feel at peace doing it and I don't know how to do much else. And even if I wanted to pursue teaching, my Egyptian degree wasn't recognized here.

So I kept studying German, and in the meantime, I found a mosque in Frankfurt that needed someone to teach Arabic to Muslim children. I was genuinely happy about it — it was a job that helped me contribute and meant my wife didn't have to carry all the financial burden alone. I wanted to feel like I was providing something for this family. The pay wasn't great, but at least I could come home with the grocery money.

A Job at the Abandoned Shelter

After a while, I came across a job posting for an old abandoned shelter — a building that had been sealed for a very long time — and they were offering excellent pay. Without much hesitation, I asked my wife to call them and see if I could get the position. She called and explained: "My husband is ready to take the job, but the issue is he doesn't speak German very well yet, though he understands a little." They told her: "That's not a problem. He won't need to speak German — we'll just show him what to do, and that's it. He'll work alone until he's done." My wife asked when we could come in. They said: "If you want to come now, here's the address. We'll sign the contract and he can start tomorrow morning." She asked me: "Should we go?" I said: "Yes, let's go."

And that's what happened. We went, met the manager, and he explained what I needed to do. A construction company was renovating the building — removing old structures and rebuilding. Since I wasn't a skilled tradesman, my role was to remove iron fittings and bring down ceilings so the builders would find the space ready when they arrived. They told me: "You'll start here alone, at your own pace, until we find someone to assist you." I agreed. I signed a three-month contract, and they said they would renew it if both they and I were satisfied. I said fine, and I was happy — I finally had a job. They gave me work clothes, safety boots, everything I needed, along with the address and a start time of 8 AM the next morning. I went home feeling genuinely excited, ready to buy my wife everything she ever dreamed of.

The First Day and the Mysterious Sounds

The next morning I woke up early and made my way to the address they'd given me. I found a security guard standing at the building's entrance. He asked: "Are you the new worker?" I said yes. He said: "Welcome. Come, I'll show you what to do and where to start." The man looked to be in his fifties, clearly experienced in this line of work. He pointed to an area and said: "Finish off this section — someone started it last week." I asked: "Where is that person? Will I be working alone here?" He said: "I don't know. I was just told to show you the work. As for the other person — he worked one day and didn't come back. We don't know why." Honestly, I didn't think much of it. I said to myself: "None of my business. I'll do my work, finish, and go home."

He showed me a room and said: "Everything in this room, you take it out and put it in the large skip outside. If you fill it today, you can head home and come back tomorrow to find a new empty one waiting. Your eight hours are counted." I thought to myself: "This is a great job!" The guard left, and I started working. The building looked like a hospital, or a hotel — something enormous like that. I wasn't entirely sure what it had been, because it was so vast. I began clearing out the room at my own pace: piles of old papers, old dolls, old clothes, chairs, tables. In short, there was a staggering amount of stuff, and you could feel that this place had been sealed shut for a very long time.

While I worked, I had some light music playing to keep me company. Suddenly, I heard a sharp scream that made me jump — the scream of a young girl! I ran out of the room and thought: "What was that? Has someone from the company come looking for me?" I searched the corridor outside but found nothing. I told myself: "Maybe I'm just imagining things." As I turned to go back in, I heard a rattling noise from the other end of the corridor. I turned around — and I saw a little girl, holding a doll in her hand, running down the hallway. I called out to her: "Little one, what's wrong? Do you need anything? Who are you?" But she didn't answer. I told myself: "Maybe I'm imagining it because I woke up early and I'm tired — this is only my first day."

The Terrifying Vision and the Shocking Truth

I went back to finish my work. Not long after, I heard the girl's voice again, as if she were calling out to me. I went out to check — no one. Then I heard a sound coming from the far end of the corridor, but this time it was a woman speaking a language that wasn't German — it sounded like Hebrew — and she was saying my name. I was stunned. How did she know my name? I followed the sound along the corridor but found nothing. As I turned to head back, I heard both the girl and the woman now speaking in German. I followed the voices and entered a large room.

What I saw in that room, I will never forget for the rest of my life. It may sound strange to you, but I swear to God, it is the truth. I saw more than 20 people — elderly men, women, and small children — sitting on the floor. Three soldiers carrying weapons were grabbing these people and throwing them into a deep pit filled with raging fire. And beside them, a small girl was crying. I couldn't take it. Terror seized me completely, and I ran — I bolted out of that building.

I found the guard at the entrance. He said: "What happened to you?" I told him: "This place is not normal. Something strange is happening in there." He said: "Tell me, what's wrong?" So I described what I'd seen. Since my German wasn't good enough, he tried to explain partly in German and partly in English. He told me that many people had died in this place — it had been a Holocaust execution site during World War II. Every worker who had come here said the same thing about a little girl who spoke to them. It seemed her spirit was still wandering through the building. I said to him: "I'm leaving. I cannot work here." And I left, and I never went back to that place again. That's all there is to it.