My first stiff.
I guess it was about 1990 or so. I had been in the Fire Brigade for a couple of years and hadn't seen a dead body yet. One night we got a call to a "concern for welfare" at a nearby highrise residential complex.

On arrival at the address, we found a few bags of shopping outside the door, where they had been left by the local shops delivery person earlier that day. After forcing the front door, we discovered that the light in the flat didn't work, and while we were discussing who was going in to look for the occupant, I felt a hand in the middle of my back, got shoved roughly through the door into the darkness, and had the door pulled shut behind me.

Now that was a bit stressful for a young guy not long in the job, but not as bad as when I turned my torch on and shone it around the flat to discover the occupant sitting upright on the lounge chair eyes wide open, and covered in blood from the throat all down the front of her body! Obviously she had had her throat slashed by some insane murderer, who was probably still in there waiting for their next victim. As I frantically tried to open the door to escape the madman, the door wouldn't budge and all I could hear was my workmates giggling like fucking schoolgirls on the outside, holding the door shut! I backed into the nearest corner and swung the torch around looking for the murderer who was going to kill me, when the door opened and in walked two ambo's who walked over the the murder victim, quickly checked for signs of life and instantly concluded that the "murder victim" had died after a stomach ulcer had ruptured and bled out. Thank Christ! I wasn't going to die at the hands of a physcopathic knife murderer, well not that night anyway. I've seen quite a few since then, but none stuck in my head like my first.
(Firemansam, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 12:47, Reply)