My Grandma was a smoker since she was a teenager. So, as to be expected, she was dying of terminal lung cancer at 75. 

My Dad came and stayed with her in her room those last few nights so she wouldn’t feel alone. One night, she suddenly sat straight up in bed (not something she was capable of):

Dad: “Mom, are you okay?” 
Grandma: “Do you see him?” 
Dad: “see who?”
Grandma: “The devil. He’s in the corner. He’s staring at you.”
Dad: *feels cold gust of wind*
Grandma: “okay, he’s gone now”

She passed away that night. Never woke up.