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I live in North Wales, UK. For anyone who has had the pleasure of visiting, it truly is a beautiful place to live, though, for an adolescent boy, it is certainly lacking in things to do. As a result, my friends and I would often find ourselves mindlessly exploring areas of countryside and coastline.

Despite it being quite sparsely populated, in comparison to the closest cities, there is a dual carriageway running right along the coast from Wales into England. Also, train tracks run alongside this road for most of its course, occasionally passing overhead via a small cement bridge.

Anyway, there was one night a few years ago, when about four of us randomly decided to try and explore the inside of one of these bridges, as one of the group had observed a man-hole cover nearby which we believed to be the entrance. On closer inspection, we discovered that several tools would be required in order to gain entry.

We returned with the necessary equipment and proceeded to unbolt the cover. This had to be done stealthily as the train track was right beside us, not close enough to be of any danger, but definitely a sufficiently small distance to cause panic for any train driver. And panic usually means Police.

It wasn't long before we had removed the heavy steel disc, and had started descending the ladder down into the structure. Once we had all safely reached the bottom, we decided to progress to the other side. At this point, we are totally confined into the narrow space that leads into the main area. If you are confused as to what the hell this 'bridge' is supposed to be, you probably should be, because it was rather peculiar. I mean, I would have never known there was even an inside had we not found the man-hole.

So, as we squeeze and crouch, and at one point scrape along our bellies, to the other side of the structure there is a growing sense of claustrophobia between us. The distance from end to the other is surprisingly long, but by the halfway point you can look down through narrow gaps onto the motorway below. This was actually pretty cool, which helped keep us calm, in a strange way.

At this point, apart from the mild discomfort and confinement, we were still just a group of guys on an adventure. This was about to change dramatically.

No more than a few metres beyond halfway (which we could tell due to the symmetry of the passageways through the bridge), one of us claimed they could see some object in the distance at the far end. Slightly hesitantly, we agreed to investigate. Bad move.

I reached the end first, and let me tell you, I have never felt the same sense of dread before or since. In front of me was a single fold-away chair positioned facing a wall. On the wall was a partially torn page from a newspaper, or a magazine, showing a fully naked lady in an erotic position. The reason I don't just refer to it as 'porn' is because something was different about it; I can't put my finger on it but it seemed more sinister than sexy, if that makes any sense.

More disturbingly the eyes of the woman on display had been cut from the page. Removed with precision, not just hastily ripped off. The scene that lay before us had rendered us completely speechless, and an overpowering sense of panic could be felt collectively. That was when we found the condom. The horrendous, gut-wrenching, blood-drenched condom.

Needless to say we got the fuck out of there as fast as humanly possible, smashing our knees and shins against the sharp cement edges, that lined the path to the ladder by which we had entered. Of course, we were all praying to God that the man-hole hadn't been re-sealed, as it was impossible to tell until you reached the ladder itself. Thankfully the exit route was clear, and we promptly dashed as far away as our legs could carry us.

I'm sure this ending comes as a disappointment to some of you reading this, as we (luckily) never bumped into the twisted individual who sits in that chair, but I must stress how radically out of the norm this was given where I live. The reason I mentioned the population earlier was with purpose; there is easily enough people here to escape the realms of 'crazy country folk', yet nowhere near enough people to have someone clearly lose grip on society without somebody taking notice. For example, there was literally only one homeless man, who everyone in the area knew and grew fond of, eventually resulting in a mass gathering at his funeral when he passed away.

I sometimes think, though not recently as I had more-or-less forgotten about that night entirely, about the person who climbs down into that bridge and navigates through the darkness to sit facing a wall, and do God-knows-what, that ends up with a condom full of blood. You honestly couldn't envision a more surreal situation.

It has just come to my realisation that what we unearthed that night has not once been uttered to another soul. As a naive teenager, it was the type of thing you just wanted to forget, but thinking about we probably should have let the Police, or at least someone know about what was down there, because it wasn't the doings of a healthy-minded individual.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/tj2uc/the_bridge/