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This is a question Terrified!

Bathory asks: What was the most scared you've ever been? How brown were your pants?

(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 13:32)
Pages: Popular, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Other than a few times
when cheating death on the highway left me with an adrenaline overload, I don't get terrified. In lower school I always looked forward to inoculation day, so I could laugh at the kids that cried.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 17:02, 1 reply)
Woke up to the house-sharing psycho-bitch and her equally deranged boyfriend setting fire to a pile of stuff out side my bedroom window
This was the culmination of a several month period of psychological warfare.
I moved out pretty soon after.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 17:00, Reply)
Just beaten unconcious last weekend by a gang of lads whilst walking home.
Realising the next morning that I may not have woken up and my 2yr old could have been without me made me vomit. That and concussion. Scary, scary scary.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 16:49, 15 replies)
I used to be good friends with a lad who was son and heir to one of the stately homes of England.
His house was a 400yo Elizabethan monolith, with 42 bedrooms, a ballroom, statues, oak panelling, and paintings and curtains to match, which stood atop a hill, and was open to the public.

Our main residence was the West Wing, and his madly alcoholic father only ever came in to tell us to get him more gin and cigarettes, his mother was pretty well a ghost - flitting from room to room occassionally, giving us a tired, wan smile should we ever meet, and the servants would occassionally join us if they thought that they could get away with it, but on the whole we were pretty much allowed to do as we pleased. Our only real obligation was to turn on the burglar alarm when we went to bed.

In order to get to said alarm we had to cross to the other side of the house, down a couple of corridors and into one of the back buildings, invariably in the darkness as all the lights bar ours would have been turned off.

Late one evening at about 11 or 12, he recommended that we watch a great film that he'd found called The Shining. Having seen it before, and having got on the outside of several cans of cider, he fell into a deep, drunken stupour.

Meaning that I had to turn the alarm on.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 16:46, Reply)
Michael Jackson's 'Thriller'.
About 12 of us went to a mates house - he was having a 'Thriller' night. It had just come out on video, and he had a few of us round there to watch it, then the obligatory hour long 'making of' film afterwards. Then the actual 'Thriller' music video again.

When my dad came to pick me up in the car that evening, I had to check the boot for werewolves.

And chameleonic paedophiles.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 16:44, Reply)
About 10 years ago I was travelling around New Zealand......
and at one point I was working nights as a forklift truck driver in a massive frozen warehouse that processed frozen veg.

Everything was stored in wooden sided pallets- about seven foot high they were, and they were stored one on top of another until they got up to the roof. The stacks were five high.

One day I was sent to get some frozen peas for the mixed veg mixer (a machine, rather than a job title) and in my haste I accidentally clipped another pallet as I reversed out of that row. I thought to myself 'Phew, no one was around to see me clip that pallet- that's avoided a piss take or two.' It was then that I decided to look up.

Through the flimsy chicken wire roof of the forklift I could see that the tiny knock on the bottom pallet behind me had become a bloody massive wobble by the time it got up to the roof. I believe I may have used the F word before there was a massive bang and everything went dark.

It took 5 men with shovels about 10 minutes to reach a position where I could get out from beneath what I was later told was 'about 3 tonnes' of frozen sweetcorn kernels. Within those 10 minutes I had convinced myself that there was no way I was dead, despite being cold and unable to move, because that would be a stupid way to die, and I doubt St Peter and his angels would be calling me a dopey cunt in a Kiwi accent.

After extraction I was sent for a cup of tea to calm down whilst everyone else filled two skips with the sweetcorn I had ruined. I was later joined by them on their teabreak and we had a good joke about it- how the newspapers would have reported my death and just how the British embassy in Auckland would phrase the letter that informed my parents of demise. I hadn't been scared at all so far. If anything it was too surreal to be scary.

That is until someone sitting on the other side of the room loudly announced. 'It wouldn't have been the sweetcorn that would have killed you. It would have been the wood. Or the nails. They'd have killed you outright I reckon, one of them to the skull. You're lucky it was sweetcorn though- could have been diced carrots. They all freeze together into a big lump and you'd have been crushed to death.'

I'm not sure if I vomited and then passed out, or passed out then came round to vomit- Those next few minutes were a little hazy. The pants remained 'unbrowned', but I'd be lying if I said a little bit of wee didn't come out. At least they let me go home early though.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 16:33, 1 reply)
For me it was watching horror films as a kid.
The Omen series scared the shit out of me, but not as much as watching The Amityville Horror at about nine years of age. It took me months to recover.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 16:28, 7 replies)
Night terrors
A year or so ago I was under the influence of man flu. This was a bad case, I was bed bound before 9pm, sweating and wishing my collection of lego men would be correctly allocated to my nephew.

By 4am I had finally entered slumber land, I was happily nightmaring, everything was a delightful, I have the most vivid imagination at the worst of times, my nightmares this evening were awful.

At 6am I woke up screaming.

not just a bit of a whimper, full on scream, such that I don't believe I could recreate now, I was tangled in my duvet (luckily alone) fighting and kicking, I was bolt upright, fighting and struggling and I am a strong person an imaginary ghost that was trying to kill me. and and and.... scary... my articulation doesn't purvey my horror.

Oh I have seen a few ghosts, they were not as scary.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 16:27, Reply)
Late one night...
I told this one a while ago, but it was terrifying, so...

I was about eight or nine years old, and it was a cold and dark night. It had been a hard day, and I had hit the orange juice hard that evening after a grueling day of timestables and spellings. At about 12am I awoke, my bladder decided enough was enough and that it needed to be emptied.

I clambered out of my bed and fumbled my way to the door, careful to be quiet, so as not to wake my parents, or my sister as I walked past their rooms. I made it to the toilet without incident, and relieved myself. Feeling much better, I made my way back to my room in the dark.

I carefully opened my door half way, and crept back inside...

Suddenly the door swung shut behind me and my mum burst out with a blood-curdling scream!

She HAD heard me get up, and decided it would be a fanciful jape to scare the living shit out of me.

All I can say, is thank the good lord I had just emptied my bladder 20 seconds earlier...
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 16:21, 2 replies)
cycling in reading
at a leisurely pace, coming up to a mini roundabout. emmer green end of school road for those in the know) traffic is quiet, broad daylight, i'm as close to the left hand side of my lane as i can be considering the solid row of parked cars to my left.
roundabout is bout 10 metres away, when i hear screeching, and a bmw comes round the blind corner from the hill to the right, travelling diagonally with smoke pouring out from under the tyres, and barrels towards me on the wrong side of the road, at a scary rate. my first reaction was to try and power past the parked cars into a safer position before getting splattered, i was already standing on the pedals as i was getting ready to turn up where he'd come from, so i hoofed down on the pedal at which point my chain snapped under strain, and i started to fall sideways into the road.. while this was happening, the guy managed to wrestle the car far enough across, and slow down just enough that it only clipped my thigh/hip with the wing mirror and window edge (it all happened so fast that's what i think happened, from the placing of the bruises and remnants of wing mirror) and i was spun round in the air like a ragdoll and landed thankfully with nothing more then heavy bruising, and a badly twisted knee.
i honestly thought for a second i was a fucking dead man.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 15:51, 7 replies)
Pear -
You may have to be over 30 to get this one -But the Spastic Society plastic collection kids -


They were usually creepier than this, especially the male one and they always had a chain tied round there leg that gave the impression they were there against their will. The only humour here is the sign she's holding saying, 'Help the spastics', we were so PC in those days.

I used to have nightmares about these fuckers. Firstly the paint would start to crumble from them, reavealing a real disabled zombie kid, they would then come after me making a similar noise to the zombies from resident evil, the worst bit was the noise of the chained collection box being dragged behind them, similar to the sound of nails on a chalk board. I'd gladly buy one, just so I could smash it up with a sledgehammer.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 15:46, 8 replies)
When my wife was pregnant with our first Daughter
she was rushed in to hospital after passing out and going in to labour at 21 weeks.

I thought I was going to lose them both.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 15:22, 9 replies)
I nearly took out a squad of Welsh cyclists.
I was having a bit of spirited driving through the Welsh hills when I hit the brow of a narrow bridge a little too fast - All 4 wheels left the tarmac.

To my horror as I was in the air and my car was heading directly towards a large group of cyclists, my sphincter tightened as I saw my entire future flash before my eyes. Most of these futures involved being in jail getting buggered by Big Bubba.

But Joy! My tyres hit tarmac and as the wheels gained some purchase I was able to steer away from those lucky lucky people.

I think I drove the best of the journey home a bit slower.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 15:19, 2 replies)
Teddy Ruxpin will kill you
My younger brother was about 4, I kust have been 7 or 8, and we shared a room (bunk bed actually, fact fans). His favourite toy at that tender age was his Teddy Ruxpin. You'd put a tape in his 'tummy' and he would read you a story - his mouth moved and everything. Dave (for that is my brother's name) could not fall asleep without a tale from his closest pal.

Meantime, I was starting to gain some understanding of technical things one could do to make life easier. The old tippexed phone card to get repeat calls and - crucially - the fact that putting a bit of sellotape over a tape would mean it could be recorded over.

One day, my brother had pissed me off (no idea how) and I snuck upstairs and planned my revenge using my new-found knowledge.

That night, he was being read a story by Teddy Ruxpin (which totally got my parents off the hook; they could go back downstairs and have another beer once Teddy took over story-telling duties) when, halfway through, Teddy just stopped reading and instead said: "No-one can hear you scream, David. Tonight I'm going to kill you" in a scary deep growly voice.

I managed to switch the tapes before my parents were able to investigate this 'nightmare' any further, but Dave would not have Teddy Ruxpin in the same room as him any more, did not sleep for about a week, and began bedwetting again (he eventually even had to go to a special doctor from the problem).

To this day, he half recalls the incident but thinks it was a vivid nightmare. I've never told him the truth.

Length? Running time approx 25 minutes per story.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 15:16, 3 replies)
I was once walking home at night behind a woman
She started walking faster in that "trying not to look like you're walking fast" way. I picked up my speed a bit, too. She then started walking even faster and so did I.

Then she broke into what I can only describe as a "gentle jog", and when I did as well she went into an all-out sprint.

By that time we were only about 200 metres from my house, but when I got home I was out of breath and sweating.

To this day I don't know what we were running from.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 15:02, 8 replies)
Night terrors
I had quite a few sleeping problems as a child and I put it down to this incident.

I must have been about 3 years old. The call of nature took me and I popped down the hallway to relieve myself. It was dark down the far end where the bathroom was.

I did my business, and was about to open the door to the hall when I heard:

Voice: Ooooooh (said in a ghostly/spooky kind of way).

Me: ...

Voice: Ooooooh (louder).

Me: I'm J..j..james b..b..bond and I've got a g..g...gun


Me: MUMMY! (Terrified).

I pegged it back into the lounge and hid behind the sofa only to be followed by my mum in fits of laughter. It was a cruel trick and I was utterly terrified, but then I would have found it funny.

I had the last laugh though as I kept my parents awake with my broken sleep patterns for years.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:55, 1 reply)
Probably around 1990 at the BMX track, the one by the river in Reading if you know it?
A scruffy Paul Calf look-alike threatened to bum my mate if he didn't let him have a go on his bike; he was even carrying the obligatory cheap can of lager and was fairly drunk but didn't hang around long enough to see if he was true to his word.

My mate was out in front and me being the practical joker I kept telling him that he was gaining on us, that day I think we set a new world record time for getting home but that was a mere after thought and getting home with our anal virginity intact was the real winner here.....My mate wasn't so lucky in regards to keeping his pants clean though, maybe he was adopting a skunk defense but can't blame him under the circumstances.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:43, 4 replies)
I was followed
When I was 12 I was playing in the woods near to a camp site where my family had taken me on holiday. I was climbing on a fallen tree near a lake when some middle aged bloke came over and tried striking up a conversation. I ignored him remembering the "don't talk to strangers" advice from my mom, and he buggered off. At this point I was a bit scared so decided to follow the path back to the campsite. Then the bloke appeared walking behind me. I walked more quickly, so did he. I began to run, and I heard him running behind. At this point I was utterly terrified. I was alone and it was a remote location. The path turned a corner and thank god, there was a fork in it with a big patch of ferns and brambles in the middle. I dived into this and lay low. I'll never forget how I held my breath trying to be still and quiet as my heart was pounding and I just wanted to take a big gasp of air from the run. The bloke got to the fork and stood there, looking left and right and after a minute he went right, at a run. Once I could no longer hear him I waited another few minutes so I was sure he was gone, then ran all the way back to camp through the woods, not the path. I dread to think what would have happened to me had I not hid. Silly girl that I was, I was worried about ruining the holiday and never had the courage to tell my mom about it until I was 16. For 4 years it scared me, and I had nightmares about being chased. And that folks, is the most terrified I have ever been.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:41, 4 replies)
A man with his arms folded.
There has only been one time when I thought my life might be in danger, but I was too tired to be scared at that point - and then, quickly enough, the moment had passed.

But there was one point in my life when I felt blind, gut-bursting terror, and it was caused not by any threat to my life or welfare, but by a man standing with his arms folded.

At my primary school, we would occasionally have entertainers of one sort or another come to put on a show. I can only assume they were deemed to be educational in some way. One afternoon when I was about 5 or 6, we were all shepherded into the school hall to see one of these shows. The curtains were drawn across the windows: the only light was that which had been shone onto a hastily-constructed back-cloth.

We were hushed and expectant; and after a moment, a man came out from behind the cloth, and stood looking at us.

I can't remember much about him, save that he had dark hair, was wearing a purple t-shirt, and that he had his arms folded. And to say that I was terrified by him doesn't begin to come close to it. I have no idea why - there was nothing about him that warranted such a reaction; but I had never been so scared in my as-yet short life - and I don't think I've been so scared since. I'm not entirely sure that anything could scare me quite so comprehensively. This wasn't the fear that you might get from, say, needing an operation, or the fear that a loved one might die. It was worse than that. It was a deep, fathomless, existential horror - the kind of horror that makes you yearn for death rather than flee from it.

For those few, very few, seconds, the world opened up beneath me, and I stared into its infinite indifference. I looked into the abyss, and the abyss looked back at me - and, mentally, I screamed, and screamed, and screamed. I would have screamed vocally, too, but I was too scared. All because of a man with his arms folded.

And then the show started, and I think I quite enjoyed it.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:31, 1 reply)
I woke up in the night and was struck by the concept of my own mortality
then I had a tot or two of brandy and went back to sleep
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:18, 8 replies)
Woke up one night, unable to catch my breath. Couldn't walk, had to crawl into my daughter's bedroom on my hands and knees, wake her up and get her to call an ambulance. I'd been wheezy at night for years, but never even thought to get checked out for asthma before that.

Nasty experience, never want to go through that again.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:11, 1 reply)
I can only remember being
terrified once.

I think all I need to say is 'Salem's Lot'.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:07, 8 replies)
I'm scared of Vagabonds dog
when you stroke it, it makes a purring noise.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:05, 7 replies)
Aged 4 at a childrens Nursery.
The playground was next to a huge Aquaduct which had a huge overflow pipe protruding from underneath one of the arches. It was EVIL! I couldn't walk between the front playground and rear as I was so scared of this pipe so the Playgroup staff had to escort me. Many Years later after the nursery demolished I happened to walk past and seeing that pipe still made me shudder.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 14:00, Reply)
Big Ben
I was petrified of Big Ben when I was a kid, and earnestly believed that the bell was so loud it would make my head explode.

Degree of difficulty: Before the M25 was built, any trip to visit my grandad meant going in the car right through the middle of London. As we got closer and closer to Westminster, I'd get more agitated, and would eventually end up cowering in the footwell, fingers in ears, urging parents to drive faster.

One day we drove past at two minutes to the hour and I was actually sick with fear, but insisted that the car could not stop until we reached the relative safety of Dagenham.

I'm normal now.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 13:48, 2 replies)
Going for a regular check up, nurse points out a lump that wasn't there last time.

Que four months of pant shitting horrible terror of "Do I have cancer?", oh btw did I mention the lump was found on one of my beloved testes?

For me, can't get more scared than the idea that something growing on/in you is going to kill you for no more reason than it can.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 13:45, 9 replies)
I was seven, and though there were ads all over TV warning us not to do it, I did it anyway.
Not deliberately, you understand - I just wanted my ball, as I'd hit it over to the other side of the road.

I sidled between my dad's and my mate's dad's car and ran out.

The on-coming car would have been doing at least 50mph - it's a busy, main arterial road in the countryside.

I don't think he'd even had time to hit the brakes, and the front wheel went over the back of my shoe as I ran, taking the shoe off.

His wing-mirror hit my elbow as the screeching of the brakes started, and he slid to a halt several tens of meters away.

I collapsed at the other side of the road crying my eyes out, and the driver ran over to me, grabbing my shoulder and checking I was OK. I think he may even have picked me up and carried me home, because somehow my dad turned up, hugging me so hard I could barely breathe, reassuring me it was all OK it was all OK just a shock it was all OK just a shock it was all OK.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 13:44, 2 replies)
I'm terrified by crystal meth.

(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 13:40, Reply)
Coming second
Luckily I suffer from premature ejaculation!

And I don't even need a length joke.
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 13:40, Reply)
getting first first.. terrified
(, Thu 5 Apr 2012, 13:34, Reply)

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