Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Emergency Purge Services

Episode Date: May 13, 2022

🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3zCFjQc 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep �� Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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DePos Minimimumum of $10. Veil to pay of a way responsible. The conditions apply. I left my house just as the Burge announcement

commenced. I started my van up just as the female announcer said police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until

tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. When the purge concludes. I took a moment to laugh about that. Not all emergency medical services

would be unavailable. Taking my Sig Sourer pistol out of my hip holster, I stuck it between my legs for easy access. Safety on.

so there was no risk of shooting myself in the junk. As I pulled out of my driveway, I spotted one of my neighbors at his mailbox. I came to a stop next to him, rolling down the window, and talking to him through the bars affixed to the outside of my door. Jacob, you better get your ass back inside. You know what time it is?

Jacob, a grumpy old man who must have been pushing 90, sneered at me. Any asshole want to shoot me while I'm getting my mail? I welcome them, As he said this, he lifted his right hand out of the nasty brown robe he was always wearing, showing me a hand cannon of a revolver. Laughing, I put my hands up and surrender. Besides, Jacob said,

You're the crazy son of a bitch is going out into the city tonight of all nights. You think you and your second-rate ambulance really make a difference out there? I don't think we do, I said. I know we do. Well, I hope you don't get your head. blown off tonight. Good luck to you, Jamal. I'll be all right. It's an unspoken rule that you don't shoot the medics. Yeah, it is until it ain't, Jacob said, turning away and waving his mail at me dismissively. Stay inside, old man. I called after him, pulling away. He flipped me the bird,

which got me laughing again. It took me a little over ten minutes to get the Dillon's house. so it was about 7.15 by the time he got into the passenger seat of the van-turned-amature ambulance. Sunset was around 645, so by the time I got to his place, it was full dark. Ready to do this? I said. Dylan looked at me sideways. Hell yeah, he said. Dylan had black hair cut close to the scalp and a big, bushy black beard. He had icy blue eyes and a big scar over his right eye.

Plus, he was 6'4 and about 225 pounds. The dude was intimidating as hell. So me asking him if he was ready was a kind of joke. I'm no slouch, but I'm not nearly as intimidating as Dylan. If Dylan ever called and said he didn't want to go out on Purge night, I'd probably stay home too. We were a team. We watched each other's backs.

I pulled out of his neighborhood and headed toward downtown Phoenix, where the action usually started earlier in the night. As the night went on, the action would move out at the downtown area, once everyone got tired of trying to break into the stores down there. By the time 3 a.m. rolled around, we'd be out in the suburbs more, although we'd stick close to the central city and in Conto village areas. You see anything going down as you drove to get me? Dylan asked. Not really, I said. Some people trying to break into a convenience store. I heard some gunshots. That's about it. As soon as I pulled onto I-10 to head downtown, I saw a roadblock in the middle of the wide freeway.

There were 10 SUVs parked across the road, and guys with skull masks and guns behind them. These guys again, Dylan said as I slowed down. Must have worked well last year, I said. You want to turn around? Nah, they should let us through. Plus, anything goes down. We both got our vests on. Dylan was right.

We were both wearing bulletproof vests, and the van was armored. If we needed to, we could plow through. Two of the men with skull masks came around their SUVs as we approached, pointing their semi-automatic rifles at us. I pulled my Sig Sauer P-320 pistol out from between my legs and held it at the ready, but out of sight. I flipped the safety off and rolled down the window.

The fuck you think you're going. The guy said, through his grinning skeleton mask. It was one of those that left the top half of the face uncovered, so I could see the guy's eyes under his hat brim. He didn't look happy. Downtown, I said. We're medics. See the big red cross on the van? Don't fuck with me, boy. The guy said, I could just kill you right here, right now. He brought his barrel up and pointed it between the bars at my face. Same, I said, raising my pistol so he could see that it was pointed at his neck.

But I don't want to. I'd rather stay alive. So if one of your crew gets hit tonight, we can come help him out. Yeah? How would you do that? Here, Dylan said, holding up one of our cards. He rolled down his window and gave it to the guy on the side of the van, slipping it between the bars. Give us a call and we'll come running.

That's what we do. The guy pointing his gun at me looked between the two of us, thinking. Finally, after several long seconds, he lowered his gun. All right, fine, he said. He turned and called to one of the guys behind the roadblock. Let them through. I nodded at him and then re-engaged the safety on my pistol and tucked it back between my legs.

The SUV ahead moved out of the way, and we drove slowly through. I hope that asshole calls tonight all shot up, Dylan said. You'll have to wait, and he'll keep waiting. Hey, that's bad for business, I said. We don't want to get that kind of reputation. We got a good thing going here. We'll have more work than we can handle tonight. I got a feeling.

Yeah? Maybe so. Maybe so. I'll be happy with four or five good calls. If we get home safe after four good ones, I won't complain. Dylan grunted in agreement. I got off the 10 near the airport and headed east on Washington, each of us scanning our side of the road for perjures. Check it out, Dylan said as we were coming up on a dispenser.

muffled gunshots and the accompanying muzzle flashes erupted from inside the store. Here we go, I said, turning into the wide parking lot and stopping, but leaving enough distance between us and the shop that I could drive away if needed. We stared out of the reinforced, bulletproof windshield at the store. There was a lifted four-door Ford pickup truck idling outside. Sure enough, not a minute passed before three men came running out with backpacks that looked full to the brim. I knew that no dispensary would be stupid enough to leave cash in the store for the purge, but they surely had a lot of weed in there, or at least they did before those guys showed up. The pickup truck squealed out of the parking lot, passing us without incident.

I pulled up quickly, taking the spot they just vacated. Dylan jumped out of the van, heading into the store to check it out. I could hear him calling out. Medic! Anyone need help? Over and over again. as he made his way to the smashed door. I kept my head on a swivel, checking my mirrors, and monitoring the dispensary. Soon enough, Dylan ran out

and signaled me inside. I jumped out, gun in hand, and opened the rear doors, reaching in to unlatch the gurney. I pulled the bed on wheels out and met Dylan at the door. He was carrying a middle-aged woman with a bullet hole in her upper chest.

He plopped her down on the gurney, and we wheeled her to the back of the van, then pushed the bed in school. We both got inside, and I closed the back doors. Anyone else in there? I asked. Middle-aged male, shot several times in the abdomen. Well, at least we have one, I said. Dylan nodded as he started stabilizing the unconscious woman.

I heard gunshots from outside. They weren't close, but I had to check them out, so I jumped up into the front seat and looked around. An SUV rolled past on Washington, a man with an AK-47 standing halfway out of the vehicle's moon roof fired randomly. I watched the SUV pass by, the man seemingly oblivious to our presence. But at the last moment, the man turned and looked right at our van. He banged on the roof and started yelling at the driver. Uh, we're about to have a problem, I said, you got this? Only if you don't

drive like an asshole, Dylan said from the back. This shit takes precision. No shit, I said, putting the van and drive and heading out onto South 41st Street toward Madison. Behind us, The SUV turned around on Washington. I drove as fast as I could while trying not to shake the van. I took corner slowly, taking a right on Madison and then a left on 40th Street. I knew the SUV was following us, but I also knew the area. I pulled into a mostly vacant airport parking lot and stopped the van behind a semi-trailer parked there, hiding us from the road.

How's it going back there? I said, watching for the flash of headlights that would tell me the SUV knew where we were. Me, I'm good, but this woman is dead, Dylan said in an emotionless voice. You can't save them all, I said. That got a rise out of Dylan. The SUV came into view, turning around at the intersection of airline and 40th. They didn't know where we were. I smiled. Dylan and I waited until the SUV was long gone before we dumped the woman's body on the sidewalk next to 40th. The cleanup cruise would find her in the morning.

Where to next? I asked once we were back in the van. Before Dylan could answer, his cell phone chirped. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered him, speaking a few words but mostly listening. After less than a minute, he took the phone away from his ear and ended the call. Guess you just called, he asked. That asshole from the barricade, I said, where is he? Dylan told me, and I headed back up 40th, turning left back onto Washington, and then getting on the freeway again. We drove out of Phoenix and into Tempe, pulling into the Arizona Mills parking lot near the movie theater.

We immediately saw the signs of a massive fight. One SUV was flipped over on its hood. Smoke was coming out of the engine compartment. Another had smashed head-on into a light pole. Off in the distance, we saw a Jeep and an SUV tear around the far side of the mall. The SUV was chasing the Jeep. A masked man was hanging out one of the windows, firing a semi-autor rifle at the swerving Jeep. They bounced over a curve, rolling across the sidewalk and onto the road bordering the mall,

heading away from us. Where do we start? I asked Dylan. The guy set his buddies at the entrance to the movie theater. I nodded and directed the van that way. We spotted him pretty quick. He was lying against a light pole near an SUV riddled with bullet holes. Parking the van near the guy, I took a moment to look around. I saw no movement.

No one else was around. Dylan and I jumped out of the van and approached the guy. His skull mask was askew, but I could tell by his clothes that it wasn't one of the two guys we'd talked to at the barricade. Not that it really mattered. The guy was still alive, but he'd been shot once in the leg

and once in the lower right abdomen. He croaked the word help with half-slided eyes, one hand weakly pressing on each wound. Where's the rest of your crew? I asked. Where's the guy that called us? The man shook his head. and asked us to help him again.

What do you think? I said to Dylan. My partner looked around, scanning the parking lot. Let's get him in the van, he said. We brought out the gurney, got the guy on it, and loaded him into the back of the van. I got in the driver's seat. I kept my eyes peeled for trouble while Dylan worked in the back. Gunshots caught my attention,

and I looked out the windshield to spot where they'd come from. A sedan rolled by on the street bordering the mall. A couple of kids whooping and hollering. as they shot their pistols into the air. I shook my head, teenagers. A sudden banging sound came from the back of the van, causing me to jump in my seat. At first I thought it was Dylan doing something.

But when I turned around to look, his wide eyes were staring back at me. Shit, I said, Let me in. A man's voice called from outside the van. I want to see my brother. Where the hell did he come from? Dylan asked.

I shrugged sheepishly. My attention had been fixed on the sedan, and I'd let this guy come up on us from the back. I'll take care of it, I said, opening the door, pistol in hand. We're helping him just like we said. I called out before I could even see the guy. I'm coming back there. If you want to see him, I'll let you in.

I stepped around the back of the van to see a man in a skull mask, pointing a rifle at me. It was the same guy that had given me shit at the barricade. You shoot me. My partner will let your brother die, I said. Let me see him. Is he going to be okay? If you put your gun down, I'll open the back door for you so you can see him. After a moment of thinking, the man brought his gun down and nodded to me.

Okay, I said, stepping around to the back doors. I banged on the door and told Dylan it was okay to open up. The back door swung out. The masked man opened the right door, and I opened the left all the way so we could see inside. The man's eyes went wide at what he saw, and he went to raise his gun up, but I was ready. I put my sig to his head and pulled the trigger, aiming it so his brains wouldn't get all over the van. He crumpled to the ground, the gaping hole in the side of his head, leaking what little brains he had onto the asphalt. That was close, Dylan said.

Nah, I know what I'm doing. Now if we hurry, we can harvest from this guy too. I gestured at the dead man on the ground. Inside the van, Dylan had the dead man's brother opened up and had been working on removing his liver. Dylan looked at the man he had opened up, and then down to the man he had opened up, and then down to the man. with the guy I'd just shot. Okay, he said. But we need to load him up and take him elsewhere to harvest. I don't want to have someone sneak up on me again. A damn near ruined the liver when he banged on the door like that. Agreed, I said. So counting that guy's organs, provided they're all usable,

how many more do we need tonight? Dylan thought for a second. I knew he was going over the space we had available in the van. We had plenty of space in the static cold storage lockers. Livers and kidneys could be kept for a long time in those. But for hearts and lungs, which spoiled faster even in cold storage, we had invested in a couple of profusion systems. These systems stimulated the action of the human body by pumping nutrient-rich fluid and oxygen into the organ,

keeping it viable until we handed them all off to our buyer at 6.30 a.m., half an hour before the end of the purge. We should be good with one more, Tylan said. I'll know more once I get that guy opened up, but we got to work fast. Those organs are dying as we speak. I smiled as Dylan and I crouched to get the dead man off of the asphalt and into the van. It was going to be a productive purge.

Then I had a thought that I'd had every year since Dylan and I had started our entrepreneurial enterprise. Too bad the purge is only once a year.