How close have you come to death? Perhaps you've come close enough to cheat it? Have you ever wondered what it's like to see someone die? Death, like a natural disaster, arrives at times and in places you least expect it, making it that much more likely to stick with you afterward. The scary stories here of horrific and violent deaths will either give you nightmares or provide you with a new respect for the fragile life that you have. Or both. Read on to hear about true creepy encounters with death, all from people on Reddit.
From Redditor /u/ bemcgee:
"I've worked in EMS for the past five years in a rural area. The first time was pretty difficult, and it me really took a long time to process what had happened. When you're working with injured or ill people as a medical professional, its hard to not blame yourself for what happened. After a while though, I learned that death just wasn't avoidable sometimes no matter how hard you work to change the outcome. Two times since that realization, deaths have really affected me.
One late night in the winter last year, we were transporting a six-month-old that had experienced respiratory arrest from a rural hospital to a children's hospital. Along the way, things went downhill and the baby ended up in cardiac arrest. This was still 20 minutes out from the children's hospital. We worked so hard and got a pulse back, but just as we pulled up to the ER doors, we lost it again.
The other one that affected me terribly was this last summer. We responded to an accident - dump truck vs cement mixer. The driver of the dump truck was pinned in by his legs and had some chest and minor head trauma too. I was on the first truck on scene and I took charge of this man's care. When we arrived, he was totally alert and oriented, but in pain. It took two hours for the fire department to pull the cement mixer off the dump truck and push the dashboard up enough to get him out. About an hour in, he told me 'I'm getting really tired of breathing.' I've never heard anyone say that, but it was so clear that he knew exactly what was happening to him. 15 minutes later, he stopped breathing on his own. Despite ventilating him mechanically, another 10 minutes later, his heart stopped. We continued CPR over the next 45 minutes, regaining pulses several times, but by the time we finally got him out, it was far too late. He was pronounced dead at the hospital."
From Redditor /u/ voltairevillain:
"I was doing a year of my poli sci degree in the Czech republic and living in the international dormitory there. One night I was was watching a film with a girl in her dorm room which was on the 3rd floor of a five-story building. During the movie, we heard a muffled cry, and then saw a body fall quickly past our balcony window and then a loud thump. I ran so fast out of the room and down the stairs towards the courtyard and managed to shout to the front desk lady in broken Czech to call an ambulance. I made it out to the courtyard moments later to find one of my classmates, a guy from Slovakia, lying on his side, breathing in short, frenzied gasps, with blood leaking from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. I was scared to roll him over as I was sure his back and/or neck was broken, so I just sat with him talking to him, rubbing his arm and forehead and telling him that I would stay with him and help was on the way. The ambulance arrived about seven minutes later, but he had died a few minutes before looking right at me with the most terrified and pained expression I have ever seen. I still see his face sometimes when I close my eyes.
He had been up on the roof with another guy - lots of us would go up there occasionally to smoke, and to get up you had to climb out of a 5th floor window (the dorm administration kept the actual door up to the roof locked). The police did a small investigation and concluded what we all suspected, that he had accidentally slipped while climbing out the window."
From Redditor /u/ runningToMars:
"My father was always abusive, physically towards my mother and emotionally and psychologically towards my brothers and me. When I was 11, my mother was finally able to break free and get a divorce, go back to school, get a job and even by a house. We lived in that house for 11 days, until we had to go back to our original house and finalize everything for selling it. It was the last piece of control my father had over my mother and I guess he had decided that if he couldn't have her, no one could.
So, as we were leaving, he kicked my two younger brothers and me (I'm 13 now) outside while he and my mother have a talk. We heard a scream from inside the house, but the door was locked. We tossed my second youngest brother through the small kitchen window (it was high over the sink and unlocked) and he went downstairs and found my father choking my mother. He punched him in the face and broke his nose, but that gave my mother the chance to try to break free. But my father, being much larger and stronger, threw him across the room and threw a knife at him (missed), he then went back upstairs to let us in. He then started to call the police.
I went downstairs, not yet knowing the gravity of the situation, only saw them struggling, but not choking. I saw the knife and looked for a board to hit him with it, but the house was completely empty. Not wishing to use the knife (in case I miss), I ran back upstairs, threw the knife away and started to shout fire or something to get neighbors attention. I then saw a police car, and flagged it down.
It ignored me.
Or rather, as my eyes traced the car speeding past me, I saw the scene unfold in my driveway. My father on top of my mother stabbing her repeatedly. Knives cut so easily. One of the cops jumped out of the vehicle, drew his weapon and told him stop four times before shooting him in the chest - it was loud. He slumped over and blood oozed down the driveway.
Ambulances arrived to take them away, and the police round us up to bring into the station for questioning. We didn't find out until several hours later that neither of them made it. Although, I'm pretty sure that they both had died right there or en route to the hospital.
As for my perception of death. It's a reality. My grandma and cousins died much later (didn't see it), but I didn't know how to feel at the funeral. I was sad, a lost for words, but I think after seeing my mother murdered by my own father - other deaths have little impact. I'm angry at injustice and suffering in the world, but I cannot let it get me depressed. I was thinking that maybe if my children or wife dies, I'd feel especially terrible again. Recently, my wife gave birth to our first child. Despite common sense of the all the doctors and heart beat sensors, when she first came out, it looked very pale and lifeless and I felt a great sadness of having lost my first child. But then she squirmed and I felt a great joy. I'm glad that emotional roller-coaster ended in the correct direction.
As someone who has a quite depressing story about my parents, it's not often that I get to share something appropriate when people talk about their parents. Thank you."
From Redditor /u/ iamalexk:
"I saw a man jump from a top floor at the Sheridan Hotel in Toronto, Ontario this past summer. I was walking to work I noticed him falling just before he hit the ground. I turned around, went home, and didn't say a word for the rest of the day. It was most affecting due to the fact that I had been having some suicidal thoughts that week and it acted like a punch in the face to smarten up."