3 Gut-Wrenching Stories Where People Witnessed Something Chilling on Their Jobs

Imagine being at work and suddenly finding yourself in the middle of a heart-stopping moment. That’s exactly what the people in these stories went through.

These three gut-wrenching tales from the workplace reveal some chilling moments that profoundly altered the lives of some professionals and turned their regular working days into moments they would never forget.

After being in the medical profession for 12 years, I thought I’d seen it all. Yet, nothing compares to yesterday. I stood pressed against the hospital corridor, my half-empty cup of coffee in one hand and my stethoscope hung from the other.

The hospital had been overwhelmingly busy, and I was ready to hang up my scrubs for the night. But I still had a few more hours to go. After a quick bathroom visit, I was prepared to tackle the last hours of my shift.

I had just returned to the ER when two orderlies wheeled a woman in. “What happened?” I asked as I put my stethoscope into place.

“No idea, doc,” the orderly said.

“Let’s find her name,” I commanded as I examined the woman.

Nurse Samantha reached for the woman’s purse and found her wallet. “Howard. Her first name is Vanessa,” she said.

I nodded in acknowledgment and ordered everyone to start treating her. I noticed the bruise on the patient’s abdomen, and my heart sank. I knew something very wrong had happened to her.

A couple of hours later, the woman, Vanessa, woke up feeling groggy, and Samantha checked on her.

“Hi, I’m Samantha, Dr. Silverman said to page her the moment you woke up. Is that okay?” she asked.

Vanessa nodded. Soon, she was transferred from the ER to a different ward, where she told me what brought her to the hospital. I was horrified when I heard her story.

At her home, Vanessa was sitting at the kitchen counter, picking at the last bits of lasagna from the casserole. She was ready to call it a night, but her husband, Ron, was sitting in front of the television. He was watching a game, and the beers had flowed since before dinner that evening.

As he yelled at the TV, Vanessa flinched, absentmindedly stroking her arm, which was still a little tender from the incident the week before. In her head, she thought that Ron did not mean to hurt her; he was just rushing out of the house, and she was in the way, so in his haste, she was shoved against the coat stand in the hallway.

He apologized later, and she accepted it. But it wasn’t the first incident.

“Vanessa,” he called from the living room, and she flinched again.

“Yes?” she replied, walking to him with measured steps.

“Don’t you want to sit down and watch the game with me?” he asked, gesturing to the arm of the armchair he was reclining in.

She nodded silently. Ron put his arm around her and cuddled. Somehow, Vanessa fell asleep. The next thing she knew was Ron shaking her awake.

“Come on, wake up, Nes,” he said, pulling his arm away, almost making her fall off the armchair.

“Sorry, I think I’m just wiped out from the week we had,” she yawned.

“Yeah, me too. Let’s get something to eat before we go to bed,” he said. “You know how drinking makes me hungry.”

She went into the kitchen, throwing the bottles away under the sink.

“Why didn’t you wash all the dishes?” Ron demanded, looking at the sink.

Vanessa explained that she was doing them, but he called her.

“And that’s supposed to be an excuse?” he began to throw the beer bottles one by one into the bin. She looked down at the feet and shook her head.

“Look at me,” he demanded in a low and dangerous voice. “It’s not difficult, Vanessa!”

As she sighed, he went like, “What are you sighing for? What are you so fed up with?”

Vanessa just shook her head again.

“Can’t speak?” he asked angrily.

Then, without warning, Ron threw the casserole dish through the kitchen. It hit Vanessa straight in her abdomen. First, she was blinded by the force and the pain that ran through her body. Then, the sight of the shattered glass and leftover lasagna made the kitchen look like a crime scene.

“Clean up this mess,” Ron ordered and returned to the living room.

Vanessa cried but went into action. As she was wiping away the last soap suds in the sink, Ron walked in, throwing the container of chicken bones across the counter.

“Hmm,” he said, inspecting the kitchen. “Are you satisfied?”

“Good. I am, too. Let’s go to bed. But you need to shower first. You smell like food.”

Vanessa stood in the shower, letting the hot water relieve some of her pain. She looked at her fingers, covered in little cuts from the shattered glass. She saw that the casserole had already summoned a large, angry bruise across her ribs on the left side.

“Enough is enough,” she whispered to herself. As if she had conjured him, Ron banged on the bathroom door.

Vanessa got into bed slowly and pretended to sleep. She had to wait until he fell asleep to go to the nearest hospital. His snoring quickly took over the room, and she took her shot. She drove to the hospital and muttered an inaudible “help” from the orderly standing next to the ER door and passed out.

“I knew I had to leave. Thank you for listening to me,” she told me once we had filled out her paperwork and she had gone over previous injuries.

“Of course, that’s what we’re here for. And we can talk about your plan of action later. You rest now and try not to move too much, okay?”

I squeezed her hand and left. It seemed like, for the first time in a long time, Vanessa felt safe.

A few hours later, I again went to the floor where Vanessa was admitted. When I walked around the corner, I saw that an irate man confronted Nurse Samantha.

“Hello?” the man said condescendingly. “I’m her husband, and that means I am entitled to be with her whenever I please!” he barked at her.

Samantha looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Sir, is there a problem?” I asked as I approached them.

“Here is Dr. Silverman. She will explain everything to you,” Samantha told him.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Silverman,” I said.

“Ron,” the man barked. “My last name is Howard.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine. Of course, he would show up. I knew he would at some point.

“You are holding my wife somewhere in here, and you are not letting me see her. Honestly, who does that?” he continued.

I looked at him, trying to understand what type of mood he was in. I needed to be careful of how I dealt with him. People like Ron were always tricky to deal with, and I knew I could handle myself, but I had no idea how he would react. That was the concerning part.

“You’re her husband?” I asked.

Ron held his left hand up, which was covered in band-aids. I knew it was masking the aftermath of one of Vanessa’s ‘incidents,’ as she had said. Ron held his ring finger up, clear for me to see the gold band glimmering in the light.

“See?” he said, tapping at it with his right hand.

“Do you know what happened to your wife?” I asked him.

“My wife is perfectly fine, all right, Dr. Silverman?” he sneered. “There is nothing wrong with her. Whatever she might have told you in there, that’s a lie. So, I am taking her home with me. Give me all the paperwork right now.”

“Sir, I’m sorry. But your wife needs treatment at the moment,” I said.

The angry husband wasn’t satisfied, but before he could complain more, the reception desk telephone rang, distracting us for a second.

Ron pushed past me, but I knew I couldn’t let him take Vanessa home. I explained the situation, saying that Vanessa had a gastric ulcer and needed to stay or she would die. But he was unhappy and tried to intimidate us, demanding we release his wife. I agreed and asked him to wait.

Then, I rushed to Vanessa’s room, avoiding Ron, and saw her in bed. “Mrs. Howard, I talked to your husband,” I said quickly.

Vanessa was shocked, and she retreated to the bed as if to get away. But I stopped her from panicking.

“He bribes everybody, Dr. Silverman. No one even wants to listen to me!” she cried. But I had a plan. I produced Vanessa’s files and her medical history. With that evidence, the hospital had the obligation to report it to the police for domestic violence.

But then, Ron walked into the hospital room with Dr. Mitchell, my boss, in tow. Maybe he’d guessed I was up to something. He acted like nothing was wrong, but I intervened, preventing him from getting close. However, Dr. Mitchell said that Vanessa was no longer my patient.

Surprisingly, Dr. Mitchell said that Vanessa had nothing, and I understood what Vanessa had been afraid of. Still, I tried to stop them, but Dr. Mitchell outranked me, and he ordered me to go home. I was fired. That was the most shocking.

With one last painful glance at my patient, I left the room. Ron and Dr. Mitchell stayed, but I wouldn’t allow them to win. A couple of minutes later, I saw them leaving the room. That’s when I had an idea. I met Samantha at the stairwell and pretended to fall so Samantha would admit me into a room.

When the hospital lights dimmed, Ron returned to Vanessa’s room and talked sweetly, but his voice was deadly.

“My fists are itching,” he said in a low voice. “It’s time to teach you the lesson that you deserve.”

Except, when Ron went to bed, Vanessa was not there. It was me, hidden beneath the covers.

“What is this? Where’s my wife?” he asked, furious after seeing me.

“Well, it’s time to go to your real home—jail!” I snapped at him.

Ron started laughing, mocking me that I could do nothing to save my poor patient, but then I clicked on my phone and replayed the threatening things he had said a second ago. He became even more enraged then.

“It’s over, Ron,” I said. “You are going to pay for all the pain that you caused your wife.”

At that moment, a policeman entered the room, arresting Ron. I had called the cops to ensure my patient never went home with that abusive man again. When Vanessa appeared in the doorway, Ron had the gall to beg her for help.

“Babe! Babe, please! Tell them I’m innocent,” he said. “We’ve been through so many things.”

“Yes, Ron,” Vanessa said. “We have been through a lot. Bruises. Broken bones. All of that will heal. But I will never forget what you did to me.”

The policeman took Ron away while he kicked and screamed. Vanessa embraced me and thanked me, and we saw how another policeman dragged Dr. Mitchell away. He threatened to sue everyone, but no one listened.

I was so glad I could save a woman’s life. Still, so many women are trapped in relationships and homes where they are being abused.

Vanessa’s story should encourage us to stand up against this form of violence. Even saving one life makes a huge difference.

As a doctor, I feel so blessed that I could help Vanessa.

So, I was patrolling Nevada, okay? Nothing around but the desert. Then, outta nowhere, this car popped up. I squinted a bit and what did I see? A 12-YEAR-OLD KID was driving the car! Yes!

“Stop the car on the side of the road!” I immediately said through my megaphone.

The boy, Jimmy, knew he was in trouble. He slowly stopped the car on the curb and waited for me and my partner to approach him.

“Boy, what on earth were you thinking?” I asked. “You’re definitely too young to drive. What’s happening here?”

He turned pale as if he had seen a ghost.

“I’m sorry, Officer Winston,” he slowly said, glancing at my nameplate. “I’m driving my unconscious mom to the hospital. She was driving us back home from Nevada when… she suddenly stopped the car on the side of the road because she was feeling sick,” he added, almost crying as he looked at his mom.

I glanced at the backseat and realized that there was, indeed, a woman passed out.

It turns out that every weekend, Jimmy and his mom, Macy, go on adventures. They would drive to beaches, hike on nature trails, do water activities in lakes, and do whatever else they could think of to enjoy together.

That particular weekend, they decided to drive from California to Nevada. They went camping at the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, where they hiked and took pictures around the scenic spot.

On the drive back home, Macy suddenly stopped the car by the side of the road. “Hold on a second, sweetheart. I don’t feel so well,” she admitted.

Before Jimmy could even respond, he noticed Macy slump towards the side of her seat. She fainted almost immediately.

“Mom!” he yelled. “Mom! Are you okay?” he said, shaking her to wake her. “Wake up, Mom!” he said, then he reached for the water bottle beside him and sprinkled some water on her face.

When his mom didn’t wake up, Jimmy glanced around for nearby establishments, but all he could see was the desert. They were somewhere in the middle of Nevada. No cars were approaching, so he thought fast.

He started to pull his mother towards the backseat so he could get behind the wheel. He had no driver’s license and had only driven once in his life, but he was worried that his mom wouldn’t make it if they remained parked in the middle of nowhere.

So the 12-year-old toggled with the GPS and searched for the nearest hospital, a ten-minute drive from where they were. He stepped on the gas and breathed a sigh of relief when he started to see establishments pop up left and right, signaling that they were already close to the town proper.

“Get in the passenger seat. I’m going to drive you to the hospital,” I said, gesturing for Jimmy to scoot over as he explained everything.

But my patrol partner objected. “Come on, man. This kid didn’t follow the law! He should have called 911 and waited for them to come instead of driving. We should get this car impounded and arrest the boy,” he argued.

“We’re talking about a LIFE here! Look at her. She’s getting paler by the second! She needs to get to the hospital quickly!” I replied.

“You’re going to get fired! Everything should be done according to the law. We took an oath. Don’t you remember?” my partner asked me.

“Maybe I’ll get fired, but my life won’t end at being a police officer,” I said. “But this woman’s life can end today if she doesn’t get to the hospital. I took an oath to protect the community I am serving. I want this boy to have a chance to grow up with his mom, even if it’s the last thing I do as a policeman.”

I got behind the wheel and drove Jimmy and Macy to the hospital. When we got there, Macy was quickly wheeled into the emergency room, and I made sure to assist Jimmy while speaking to the doctors.

After some tests, it was revealed that Macy had suffered a brain aneurysm. “Thankfully, you were able to take her to the hospital before the aneurysm ruptured. If you brought her in ten minutes later, it would have been challenging to save her,” the doctor told us.

Jimmy was overwhelmed with emotion upon hearing this. He was relieved that he trusted his gut by getting behind the wheel and started to cry. “Thank you, Officer Winston. If it weren’t for you, I would have lost her,” he told me.

I patted his back. “You’re a brave young man, Jimmy. Your mom will be proud of you, kid.”

I asked him where his dad was, and it was then I learned Macy was a single mom. When Jimmy was eight, his father left them for another woman and never showed himself again.

Since the heartbreaking incident, it had always just been Macy and Jimmy. Macy always vowed to put Jimmy first, so whenever she wasn’t working, she’d spend all her time with him.

While Macy recovered at the hospital, I took responsibility for Jimmy. I made sure he was taken care of and that he and Macy had everything they needed.

After a couple of weeks, Macy made a full recovery. She wouldn’t stop thanking me for taking care of Jimmy in her absence and for taking her to the hospital. I politely told her it was not a big deal because I did what any responsible citizen would have.

And you know what she did? As soon as she was released, she put in a good word for me at my police precinct. Not only was I commended for my heroism, but I was also promoted.

Sometimes, life teaches us lessons in strange ways. It was through Jimmy that I learned people do impossible things for people they love. Jimmy never expected to drive that day, but when he saw that his mom needed to be brought to the hospital, he didn’t think twice as it meant saving his mom’s life.

“Breathe, breathe. It’s all going to be okay,” I gently told Leah, marching alongside her while she was being carried to the operation room on a gurney.

“You’re… You’re the best older brother I could ask God for, Thomas,” she whispered as we entered the OR.

Leah had gone into labor at only 36 weeks of pregnancy, and the doctors had suggested performing a C-section. But soon after delivering the first baby, Leah’s pulse began dropping, and her condition worsened.

“Leah, please stay with me! Nurse, what’s happening? Look at me, Leah! Look at me,” I cried, my palms wrapped around her hand.

“Doctor Spellman, you need to leave, please,” Dr. Nichols said, escorting me outside. Then, the doors of the OR were slammed shut.

I sank onto one of the chairs in the waiting area, my tears not stopping. I could still smell Leah’s scent on my palms. I buried my face in my hands, hoping it would all be fine soon.

But when a doctor’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, I could tell something was not right. “Doctor…how…how’s Leah?” I asked, jumping to my feet.

“We’re sorry, Thomas,” Dr. Nichols said remorsefully. “We tried our best, but we couldn’t stop the bleeding. The children are safe and have been placed in the NICU.”

I sank back onto the chair, unable to process the news of Leah’s death. She had been so excited to hold her little angels, cradle them, and give them only the best. How could God be so cruel and take her away so soon?

What am I going to do now? I thought disappointedly when a voice boomed in the hallway. “Where the hell is she?! She thought she could deliver the kids, and I wouldn’t know?”

My rage knew no bounds when I saw Leah’s ex-boyfriend, Joe, storming into the hospital. “Where is your sister?” Joe growled.

I grabbed the man’s collar and pinned him to the wall. “Now you’re interested in where she is, huh? Where were you when she spent a night on the streets because of a lowlife like you? And where were you, Joe, when she collapsed four hours ago? She’s dead! My sister…she didn’t even survive to see her kids!”

“Where are my children? I want to see them!” Joe screamed, yanking away my arms.

“Don’t you even dare talk about them, Joe! Get out of my hospital, or I will call security!” I warned him. “OUT!”

“I’m leaving now, but I’m going to get my children back, Thomas! You can’t take them away from me,” Joe shot back as he disappeared from the hallway.

For the sake of my three little nephews, I decided I couldn’t just sit and mourn Leah’s loss. I was all my nephews had, and I would do anything to ensure the children didn’t grow up under their alcoholic father’s care. So, I decided to adopt the triplets, and I fought for their custody in court.

“This is unfair, your honor!” Joe screamed on the witness stand, shedding fake tears. “I am the kids’ father. How would I survive without those little lives? They are Leah’s flesh and blood, MY flesh and blood, and they are all I have now!”

“Let me get something clear,” the judge told Joe. “You were not married to the children’s mother, Leah, nor did you support her financially while she was pregnant. Is that right?”

“Well, you’re not wrong, your Honor,” Joe sighed, lowering his head. “I work as a handyman and take up small gigs. I could not afford to support her, and that’s the reason why we didn’t get married.”

“Pardon me, your honor, but my client has text messages and voice notes from Leah where she clearly states that Mr. Dawson is a heavy drinker,” my lawyer said. “And she refused to marry him unless he entered a rehabilitation program.”

My lawyer presented the evidence in court, convincing the judge that Joe was not fit to raise the children, and the court decided in my favor.

As I walked out of the courtroom, I looked up at the bright skies, remembering Leah. “I had promised you I would do my best to help you. I hope I didn’t disappoint you, Leah,” I whispered with teary eyes.

Right then, Joe stormed out of the court and grabbed my arm. “I’m the real father of the children, and I’m going to fight for them, Thomas. Don’t be too proud that you’ve won for now.”

I pulled my arm from Joe’s grasp and glared at him. “That’s exactly why you’re not fit to become their father, Joe! You shouldn’t fight for the children but for the children’s sake!”

When I returned home from the court, satisfied that Leah’s kids were safe with me, I saw my wife packing her bags.

“What’s going on, honey?” I asked, bewildered. “What’s with all the packing at this time?”

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” she huffed, zipping the last bag shut. “I’m not even sure if I want children at all, and here you have three at once. You won the case, didn’t you? Well, I thought it over, but I don’t think I want to spend the next few years of my life changing diapers. I didn’t sign up for this when I married you, Thomas. Sorry.”

And then Susannah was gone. I looked around the house, and I still couldn’t believe I was left all alone to care for my nephews. I pulled out a bottle from the wine rack in frustration, but just as I tossed away the cork, my gaze was drawn to the screensaver on my phone.

My three little nephews were waiting for me. I couldn’t just drown in my sorrows and leave them to their fates.

“I promised Leah I would give them a good life. I can’t do this!” I thought as I returned the wine bottle to the rack.

Time flew by, and the triplets Jayden, Noah, and Andy were raised in my love and care. Whether it was cleaning the boys’ poopy diapers or lulling them to sleep with my tragically unmelodic voice, I loved each moment I spent with my nephews.

But their care also took a toll on my physical and mental health, and one day, I collapsed at work. I dismissed it as a lack of sleep.

Then, as I arrived home that evening, the sight of a man sent shivers down my spine. Joe was there, in the front yard of my house, playing with the kids.

“WHAT THE HELL YOU’RE DOING? Put my son down!” I yelled as I dashed over to the kids. “How did you get my address?” I fumed, looking around for my neighbor. I had asked her to watch the kids. “Have you been stalking us all along?”

“I’m here to take back what’s mine, Thomas. I’m here for my children!” Joe admitted brazenly.

“Your children?” I scoffed. “Where were you all those five years when I was raising them? They were never yours, to begin with, Joe. You walked out on them when they weren’t even born, and now you’ve returned to claim them? They’re no longer your children. Get lost!”

“You’re wrong, Thomas,” Joe said confidently. “I worked hard for those five years so I could become financially stable to look after my children. I told you I wouldn’t give up, and it’s time the children went home with their biological father!”

“Oh really?” I challenged him. “I bet the new car you’re driving around will convince the judge otherwise. Don’t waste your time!”

I was confident that Joe wouldn’t be able to take the kids back, but then, he pulled out a card from his pocket and handed it over to me. “I have a good life now, Thomas. You see, I work at a reputed firm now, and I’ll see you in court.” I froze in shock.

A few months later, I received a court summons. My heart dropped as I read it, but I still mustered courage and appeared at the court.

During the hearing, Joe’s lawyer summoned me to the witness stand.

“It has recently come to our attention that Dr. Spellman is on a very specific regimen of prescription medications,” Joe’s lawyer said. “After consulting a medical specialist, I’ve come to—”

“Objection, your honor!” my lawyer cried, jumping to his feet.

“I will allow it since the guardian’s health directly impacts these proceedings,” the judge said.

“Thank you, your honor,” Joe’s lawyer continued, turning to face me. “Is it true, Dr. Spellman, that you were diagnosed with a brain tumor, and the doctors can’t guarantee how long you will live? And that this particular combination of medications is used to treat a brain tumor?”

I hung my head as I said, “Yes.” I was indeed diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor months ago and was taking medications to shrink the size and prevent seizures.

After listening to both parties, the judge looked at me with sympathetic eyes and delivered the judgment.

“Considering the new circumstances, the court believes that it would be best for the children to be in the care of their biological father. Dr. Spellman, I wish you strength and good health, but if you truly love these children, you must understand that this is what’s best for them. Hence, I am awarding the custody of the children to their biological father. You have two weeks to prepare them.”

I had seen it all coming the day I received the summons, but I wanted to fight for my nephews and for the sake of my promise to Leah.

As I packed my nephews’ bags, ready to bid them goodbye, my chest felt hollow, as if a heart was no longer beating there. These children had been my reason to live.

“Uncle Thomas, we want to live with you! Please, Uncle Thomas,” the kids insisted.

“Boys,” I said. “If you love me, you know I would never choose something wrong for you. I want you to be happy, and Joe will keep you happy, boys. Will you please get your things to his car now?”

As the three little boys loaded their bags into Joe’s car, they didn’t even look at him. In fact, they turned around, ran up to me, and hugged my leg.

“I love you, Uncle Thomas,” Jayden said in tears. “I–I don’t want to leave you!”

“We want to live with you, too!” Noah and Andy cried in unison.

“Hey, hey, guys,” I crouched to face the kids. “Didn’t we make a solid deal? I will come to see you on weekends, and we’re going to be good to Daddy Joe.”

I wrapped the boys in a tight hug, swallowing my tears. “Now come on; Joe’s waiting,” I said, trying to pull away, but the children held onto me even tighter.

Joe had never liked me. In fact, he would’ve done anything to have his kids back. But at that moment, something in his heart shifted. He looked at me and the boys and couldn’t stop himself from joining us.

“You were right all along, Thomas,” he said, joining the group hug and shaking his head. “We should not fight for the children but for their sake.”

After that, Joe helped me carry the boys’ bags back into the house. I couldn’t believe it, but Joe had changed.

He genuinely loves the children, and I’m glad that he will always be there to look after the boys. I couldn’t have asked God for more.

Well, the individuals in these stories not only witnessed something chilling but also carried these experiences with them, reminding us all of the unexpected twists life can present, even during a day’s work.

We’re curious — Do you have any similar stories to share? We’d love to hear them!

If you enjoyed reading these, you might also like these heartwarming stories that happened at the airport and aboard an airplane.

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Note: These pieces are inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only.