People Were Asked, 'Who Is The Most Terrifying Person You Have Ever Met?'

What happens when your nightmares turn into reality. For these AskReddit users, some of their worst moments depict interacting with people, who could only be compared to, figures from famous horror movies. 

 Source list can be found at the end.

The first day of high school and I was in the toilet. Massive kid (6'5" and 270lbs) known to be the main drug dealer in the school comes in with blood on his face and dripping from his hands. I look over as I'm washing my hands and he turns to me and [says], "Don't worry little man, it's not mine."

Was infinitely more worried after that.


One of the guys I prosecuted for capital murder back when I was a prosecutor decapitated his children. When you looked into his eyes, nothing human looked back at you. It wasn't that he was a sociopath. (In fact, he was obviously mentally ill and a lifelong drug addict, [which] had left him [not] all there, especially cognitively). It's just that his eyes were very, very dead. Not dead in the sense of hopeless or resigned to his fate, but just that nothing, no love, light, [or] warmth ever looked out from behind those eyes.

And it's not that he [physically] scared me. Running into the guy in a dark alley would not be scary. But it [worried] me that there are people like that out there. Sociopaths and psychopaths I can deal with. I understand them, psychologically. I see where they fit. But this guy was just something else, like the inversion of a person.


Well, psychiatric wards have no term limits attached to them. So, pleading insanity can be a life sentence in a place where you're constantly dragged through cocktails of drugs and if you weren't insane, beforehand, then you will be if you ever make it out. Constantly surrounded by people monitoring your behavior and the fact that there are actual mentally insane people that can slip on his meds at any moment and start thinking your stomach looks like a perfect place to keep his sharpened utensils collection or think lighting your hair on fire is a fun game to play.


It would definitely have to be my uncle. I lived with my grandma and every few months he'd stop by and crash on the couch. He was one of those cool uncles that always had weed and looked like a character from Sons of Anarchy.

One time, he stopped by and I smoked a joint with him on the back porch. He just went off with this long and detailed confession about killing someone. For probably close to 20 minutes, he told me how back in the 80s some friends [and him] purposely gave a woman that snitched on them uncut dope. It was disturbing. He even talked about getting mad because she shit on the floor as she was dying. A few weeks later, I found out he was dying of colon cancer. I guess he just wanted to confess to someone. I don't know why he picked me of all people. I wish he hadn't.


This random man who happened to be outside when I was walking out a library a few years back. He was disheveled, short (I want to say around 5'1-5'3), bald, mumbling to himself, and walking funny. When I got to be about 3 feet from him, he turned around and knocked out the lady behind him. A perfect stranger on her phone and he knocked her out with one solid punch to the face. Then, he ran up to a guy who was easily a foot taller than him and tackled him to the ground, head butting him and yelling, "Can you feel this now, Marcy? Can you?!" By the time the cops showed up, this guy was foaming at the mouth from yelling, covered in blood, and two other people (older men) had [also] been assaulted by him. It was f***ing nuts. The guy was obviously on some strong shit, but I've never seen anyone, before or after that, just loose it quite like that.


I was in Italy. This woman had a voice that I can only describe as demonic. She was in a wheelchair and had a gas tank. Whenever I have nightmares that involve demons, they always have her voice.


Once I went to the Walmart near my house at around 11 PM at night because I couldn't find my phone charger so I had to get a new one. This tall, built guy with those tear tattoos under his eye walked up to me and asked, "What's your name, son?". I didn't want to be rude (especially to a guy that scary) so I told him my name was Sam. He told me his name was Scrappy and pointed out [that] both our names started with the letter "S", and then, left me alone [for] the entire rest of the shopping trip. I never saw him again.


My ex-boyfriend was charming at first for awhile. He could reel you in instantly. He was incredibly intelligent on all aspects and could relate to you and your interests no matter who you are or what you liked. The more you got to know him, you would see how manipulative he was. After awhile, he became verbally and mentally abusive. [He] called me every horrible name, would physically corner me in an argument and scream in my face, leave me on the side of the road to walk home when he was mad at me, [and even] threatened to kill me once. I [got] the f*** out of there, but the way he would look at me was terrifying. It was like he would look in your eyes and make you feel like he's going to f***ing murder you one day. Makes my hair stand on end. I always felt like he was one step away from becoming physically abusive. After I left him, he got a new girlfriend and it escalated from verbal abuse to physical abuse. I'm just waiting to see his picture in the paper for murder. I had a co-worker a couple of years ago that looked a little like him. Had the same scary look in his eyes. I couldn't even stand to be around [that] guy, it unsettled me so much.


The person I was most [afraid of] was a creepy shuttle driver who rambled about keeping records on everyone he drove on his route, while I was the sole passenger in his shuttle on an hour-long drive to the airport. 


Our agency signed a model a couple of years back who was scary as f***. She was one of the nastiest people I have ever met. Beautiful, but there was something so off, this really deeply unpleasant [and] dark energy to her.

We moved her into a model apartment, and she was a nightmare. [She started] bullying people, stealing, starting fights and [stuff], and set fire to another girls stuff once. One of those people who you really just wouldn't put anything past. Vile, so unpredictable, as well. She could turn on the charm in an instant too. I think that was the most unsettling thing. We got rid of her, but I hope I never have to see her again.


I am sure this isn't wholly original and not scary in the "I'm going to stab you"[kind of] way, but I had a teacher who still terrifies me 15 years on. He was my Irish teacher. [He] had this great big bead and was a tall, muscular man. He would roar and abuse any student for even the slightest of mistakes. I worked hard, was a real nerd in school, one of the good kids, but struggled with languages, so he was always giving [it] to me. If you mispronounced a single word, he'd stand, towering over you, roaring down at you, humiliating you in front of the [whole] class. Everyone dreaded his classes.

Looking back, he was a horrible teacher, one who wanted to rule with fear rather than respect, and it utterly killed any interest I [had] in my country's native language. I've seen him a few times on the street since then and turned and walked away. He was a bully and the type of teacher I strode to be the opposite of when I went and got my teaching degree.


When I was a kid, my friends and I would play touch football in a big grassy field that was circled by mobile homes. So if you threw a ball wildly, it could hit someone's house and knock out a window or damage their siding. Anyways, there was one scary looking dude who would always watch us play from his kitchen window. Rumors began to spread that he was a shell-shocked Vietnam Vet and if we ever hit his house with the ball, he would come out and legitimately murder us.

When my Dad got drunk one night and tried to kill my Mom and I with a hammer, we ended up over at the guy's house. Turns out he was a pretty nice guy and let us stay there overnight while he called the police. I guess I should have been [more] afraid of the dude I was living with instead.


I grew up in a pretty bad neighborhood. It was full of gangs and people got robbed all the time. But for some reason, no one ever messed with the corner store. No graffiti on it, which was very unusual. The store owner was this nice old guy named Pancho who used to be really nice to my siblings and me.

I found out later he was the original leader of the main gang in that area. All these crazy gun carrying drug dealers were scared of the middle aged guy who used to give me quarters to play Donkey Kong.


Once, I was walking home alone after having watched 'I am Legend' together with some friends. They lived about 2 blocks away, so it was not even a 10-minute walk. Me, being a girl and sometimes a bit too obsessed with zombies, was a bit on edge. When I turned a corner, a man approached me and said something to me. I couldn't quite make out what he said and quickly walked away, ignoring him.

About 10 meters ahead of me was someone standing in between the parked cars. Standing completely frozen, arms outstretched towards me. It was a f***ing mannequin. Completely dressed.

For those who have seen 'I am Legend'; seeing a mannequin standing in the streets, dressed, was scary as hell. I freaked out, shuffled along the wall, never taking my eyes off the doll. After I turned the corner, I bolted and ran towards my house.

At home, I locked all my doors and windows, switched off all [the] lights and sat alone panting in a corner. Then, it dawned on me, what the old man had said that I [had] met before, "Watch out, someone is standing really still there."

The poor man must have been more freaked out than me, thinking it was a real person.

In the end, I hated myself for not taking that thing home. Would have been a great accessory for future pranks.


My first roommate in college seemed a little odd when I met him, but whatever, it's New York. The night I moved in, he brings out this child's rocking horse with the head removed and in its place is a doll's head. He gets on all fours and just starts playing with it on the living room floor.

A few times I would get up to pee in the night and come out of the bathroom to him standing right in front of my bedroom door, silently staring at it. I would ask him what he wanted, and he would never answer, just kind of glare at me and then go back to his room.

At some point, he took a shit in a Maxwell House coffee tin and put it under the kitchen sink. When I found that I used it as final motivation to move out.

I stuck that roommate "situation" out for almost three months because I was broke and had nowhere obvious to go. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking.


Pulling up to the gas station to pump gas and the place is packed. As luck would have it, space opened up and as I proceeded, a guy steps in front of my car and gives me a death stare that basically ripped my soul in half. I tried to give a half-hearted smile to shake it off, but he seriously looked like he would murder me if I took that spot. I valued my life, lapped around a few times, then went to another station.


Back in the early/mid 1970s my mother and I lived in the Pacific Northwest. I was about 6 years old.

We were on an offbeat road right outside of Seattle. It was a very dark night, no moon and only a whisp of fog. We saw a Volkswagen Beetle on the side of the road with their emergency flashers on and a rather good looking guy with his arm in a sling waving us down. My mom pulled over being the kind of woman that would help anybody in need and he looked normal. Mom rolled down her window and asked if she could help and the guy asked my mom if she could help him get the last lug nut off his tire so he could change his flat ... So my mother introduces herself and he said, "Hello, my name is Ted", and then smiled, looked at me, reached over and shook my hand, and asked my name and I think I got the bad vibe as well because I said nothing to him.

My mom said something about his smile really making her uncomfortable and then she noticed that he was missing the passenger seat in his Beetle. So she rolls the window back up and said she would call a tow truck to come help him at the next city. Then she speeds away while looking in her rear view mirror and she sees him taking off the sling and getting back in the Beetle and took off very fast in the opposite direction. So that's the night at 6 years old I shook the hand of Ted Bundy.


I work at a fast food restaurant and we tend to get a lot of, [well], interesting customers. One day, a man came in and I, being the cashier, went to serve him. He stood at the counter for about 10 seconds without looking at me and then proceeded to run out of the restaurant. Cut to about 2 hours later, I'm cleaning the men's bathrooms when he walks in. I apologize and say that I'll just be a moment to finish up my cleaning. When I went to exit the bathroom with my cleaning supplies, he blocked the doorway and wouldn't let me pass for about 10 seconds again. He then spends 30 mins in the bathroom before exiting the store without purchasing anything. An hour later, you guessed it, he's back again, pacing back and forth at the front of the store. He ends up ordering $30 worth of food and (rather than waiting for his order) leaves the store while the food is [still] being prepared, never to return. Several weeks later, I'm waiting for my bus (I live very close to work) when he sees me, walks up, and stands next to me for the 10-minute wait. When the bus finally arrived, he turned around and walked away. As a young woman, this scared the shit out of me. Particularly when I drove past him getting arrested a couple of weeks ago, surrounded by police officers.


A trader at the bank I work at. Guy's a walking insult machine and not random swear words. Bloody hell. Mocked a shirt I was wearing a few weeks ago. I still have not come up with a proper comeback for that. The context: I've been working out so [I] have lost a few pounds. As a result, some of my shirts are now a bit loose. I was passing by the place where he was in a huddle with other traders, he pauses, stands up, calls out "Oi, phtark, aren't you a bit too old to be wearing your daddy's clothes?" and proceeds with his meeting as if nothing happened.


When I worked at DQ, we had a guy that would do this. We called him Scary Hairy. He'd come in, stand by the entrance to the back, and just stare at us while we worked. The girls would freak the f*** out, but all you had to do is wave at him and he'd run away. He'd go into the bathroom for like a 1/2 hour and pretty much try to take a birdbath. Just got water everywhere and would leave. Finally, the manager's husband yelled at him and he never came back. I'd see him wandering the streets pulling cigarette butts and weeds off the sidewalk, putting them in his pocket, [and] then throwing them away once he got near a trashcan.


I was about 18 when I had a major falling out with friends and family and my girlfriend. I moved down to AZ. I packed all my shit in a military rucksack and hopped on a Greyhound Bus. On my way down, I sat next to a guy who mumbled to himself and picked his nails with a 6-inch boot knife. I didn't sleep. I was seriously concerned for my safety and tried to make myself be the nice guy who talks to the weirdo, but everyone was afraid of him. When we made it to one of our stops for food, we all got off. Everyone on the bus knew I was really uncomfortable with the guy. He really made me nervous. Well, he got off and didn't make it back in the 30-minute window we had. So, the bus driver asks if we're all here. Everyone looks at me, empty seat [besides] me. They collectively said yes. We drove off, leaving him in nowhere-Nebraska. He caught up to us during a layover in Las Vegas. I seriously almost shit myself when I saw him. I avoided eye contact and made sure I knew exactly where he was the entire time. Luckily, he wasnt on my next bus.


A friend's great grandmother just sat on his porch with a scowl on her face, wrapped up in a shawl, sitting in a rocking chair, chewing tobacco. And she was scary as hell. I'd never heard her say a word. One day, his uncle comes driving up, gets out of the car, and he's white as a ghost, shaking, and sweating. Of course, they asked what the hell was wrong. He tells us, "I was at the top of the hill just down the road and right as I crested the hill, there's a semi in each lane, coming right at me. I had no choice. I just drove right into the ditch, but I managed to maintain control and get back on the road. Scared me to death." We're all comforting him, exclaiming asking for more details, etc. Just then, great grandma leans forward a bit, spits off the edge of the porch and says,"That's the difference between you and me. I'd a hit that sonofabitch head on."


Muscled guy cracked out on drugs thinking I was hitting on his girlfriend. This was at a gay male strip club on ladies night in Montreal. Thought he was going to beat the shit out of me until his girlfriend calmed him down and he was asked to leave.


I met an Irish mafia enforcer in federal prison. We walked the track together. He told me, "I got enough bodies to fill those bleachers."




In life, sometimes there's wrong and "technically not wrong" - and the difference can often be hilarious.

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