Are There Nerve-Wracking Moments In Popular Anime Series?

My girlfriend's so-called guy best friend found out I had epilepsy. He deliberately spiked my drink with stimulants. The moment I drank it, my nervous system was overstimulated. My heart rate surged. My chest tightened. Then the familiar warning signs hit–blurred vision, fragmented awareness, the onset of a seizure. The next second, I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the floor. My muscles convulsed violently. My jaw locked tight. My breathing turned uneven. I struggled to pull out the emergency medication I always carried with me, trying to stop the seizure from worsening. However, just as I was about to take it, I realized the hot water in my bottle had been replaced with highly concentrated coffee. The extra caffeine intensified the neurological stimulation. My convulsions worsened. My thoughts became more chaotic. My fingers stiffened to the point where I could barely move. Aaron Stone looked down at me on the floor and laughed. "Not bad. You're pretty convincing. "I've seen plenty of seizure patients before. Never seen anyone act this well." Gasping for air, I forced myself onto my knees in front of Mia, my jaw tightening from the spasms. "Mia... call an ambulance... I'm having a seizure..." Mia frowned at my obvious condition, but there was only impatience on her face. "Enough already. "If you keep acting like this, it's honestly too much. Since when can people having seizures still talk? "Aaron's a doctor. With him here, what could possibly happen to you?" I stopped trying to explain. Because I was already entering the next stage of neurological collapse. Even speaking had become difficult. Using the last of my strength, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency distress message.

The story follows a group of six terrified passengers trapped on a speeding train driven by a greedy Shinigami who make an offer in exchange for their lives. He gave us six different rings that represent their irrational fears as they faced their painful confrontation of the past. If they can succeed to overcome it, the Shinigami will set them free but if their fears swallow them up he will collect each of the souls and deliver it to hell. The passengers are headed by Senior Team Captain of Men’s Volleyball; William followed by a geek guy named Travis, Stefanie a fragile genius student, newly-hired fashion stylist Belinda, Brendan a college professor, and Paris an ambitious and perfectionist Architect. Without any choice, they are forced to make a deal with the Shinigami and wore those rings for the rest of their journey. Driven by monstrous intention, the Shinigami took advantage of their fears to control each one of them to fight their own battle as they experienced hallucinations through going back to their memories. Each memory and close encounter gave them a near-death experience that cost much of their lives. As their journey twisted in different events, it gave them a shocking revelation of finding oneself and turning back to God to repent for their sins.

To avoid any suspicion of favoritism, my father, Myron Bradshaw, forces me to participate in the group blood donation. The only problem is I'm severely anemic. When the nurse, Lorna Ritter, draws 100 milliliters, my vision suddenly goes dark. I've just put my hand on the needle tube, about to call for a stop, when Ms. Ritter holds my wrist down. "You're calling it quits after only 100 milliliters? All the other students are donating 400 milliliters." She glances at my bloodless face, her eyes full of disgust. "Donating blood is such an honorable thing to do. Selfish fakers like you who pretend to be sick really deserve to be penalized with a double draw." Beside me, Dad looks at me coldly and says with disappointment, "Ronnie Bradshaw, is this how I raised you? Everyone else has donated, so don't think you can be an exception. You'll draw 400 milliliters of blood today even if it kills you." I gasp for air, my heart racing so fast it feels like it's about to burst. By the third tube, my vision blurs completely, and I collapse heavily to the ground. My soul slowly rises into the air as I gaze at Dad guiltily. I'm sorry, Dad, I'm really not lying. This time, I truly can't hold on any longer.

I'm learning to swim when my childhood friend, Vivian Thorne, fakes a cramp. My boyfriend, Oliver Wilde, suddenly lets go of my hand and swims toward her. I'm left alone in the two-yard-deep pool, completely stunned. After Oliver carries Vivian ashore, he smiles as he watches me thrash around. "Vivian says you rely on me too much and need a push to learn, so just swim over here yourself." I choke on water and sink. At the sight of my struggle, Vivian laughs so hard she slaps her thigh. Oliver says something to her, then drapes a towel over her shoulders in resignation. Even though I can't hear what he says, I bet it must be, "Now that you've had your laugh, don't tease her the next time. Aria is already pitiful enough with her fear of water." It's true that I was born with a fear of water. I've known them for seven years. All this time, Oliver and Vivian have been tormenting me under the guise of helping me overcome my fear of water. In college, at the beach, Vivian deliberately pushes me off the speedboat. Oliver jumps in to shield her and watches me swallow a bellyful of seawater in the waves. On the graduation rafting trip, Vivian suddenly capsizes the kayak. Oliver swims over to pull her up and watches me slam into a rock, my leg bleeding nonstop. Last year at the water park, Vivian shoves me down the waterslide. Oliver slides down to catch her and leaves me in the pool, nearly suffocating with fear. Every time, my fear and despair are met with a burst of laughter from Vivian. Meanwhile, Oliver stands behind her, always saying the same thing. "No more next time." However, the next time always turns into Vivian's new way of having fun at my expense. Water floods into my mouth and nose, the suffocation shooting straight to the top of my skull. But suddenly, I realize that I can actually float on my own. I grab the safety rope and haul myself ashore. Two pairs of hands reach out to pull me up, but I push them away. "From now on, I don't need you two to help me build up my courage anymore."

Before the drop tower started, my best friend gave a look, and my boyfriend, with perfect tacit understanding, suddenly unbuckled his safety harness and ran off with her. I was left completely stunned on the drop tower by myself. My boyfriend stood in the safety zone with a beaming smile. "Freya said you're a scaredy-cat and need to be frightened more to get braver, so you're riding alone." The drop tower started. Looking at my comical appearance when terrified, my best friend held her stomach, laughing uproariously as she took photos. My boyfriend opened his mouth to say something as he helplessly steadied the camera lens for her. I couldn't hear the words he said, but I guessed it must have been: "Once you've laughed enough, don't tease her again. It's bad enough Cleo's so shy." I'm a timid person. Growing up together for twenty years, this was always how they accompanied me to build my bravery. When we were little, my best friend intentionally threw pebbles to draw over stray dogs. Then, he carried her on his back to climb up a wall, leaving me to be chased by the dogs and run all over the courtyard. During high school, in the vaulting class, my best friend suddenly pulled away the mat. He laughed and kicked away the rolling foam pad, watching me receive two bloody gashes from the impact. In college, we went on a night hike together. My best friend intentionally shook me off, and he followed her into the bushes to make noises, leaving me in the dark, so terrified I couldn't catch my breath. Every single time I shook with fear, it was met with a bout of loud laughter from my best friend. And standing behind her, he was forever saying a single phrase: "Don't do it next time." However, each "next time" would turn into a new joke for her happiness. The drop tower climbed to twenty meters, and the sensation of weightlessness pushed right up to the back of my throat. Suddenly, though, I felt there was nothing left to be afraid of. The drop tower reached the ground, and two pairs of hands reached over to support me. I pushed them away. "From now on, I don't need you guys to help me build my courage anymore."

After I got pulled into the horror game, my nearsightedness made everything blurry. I ended up treating the creepy girl in the blood-stained dress like my own daughter, the final boss like my husband, and the old creepy ghosts like my loving parents. The first time I met the boss, I grabbed his abs and said, “Nice body. Shame you’re kind of short.” He actually laughed in anger, picked up the severed head in his hand, put it back on his neck, and ground out, “I’m six-foot-one. Still think I’m short now?”