The Suicide Club - Introduction

Raquel stared at the card in her hand. Why couldn't she throw it away. Her friend Karen had given it to her a few years ago. She told a crazy story about a club she had joined and thought Raquel might be interested. Raquel didn't believe any of it, but then Karen disappeared without a trace a few weeks later.

Raquel had been down at the time. Big break up with her old boyfriend. Just being done with life seemed like a good option then, but now she was enjoying her life again. Why couldn't she throw away this suicide club phone number.  Karen had said at every meeting one member was selected for ... suicide.

The number was old.  If it really was a suicide club, this person is probably dead already Raquel thought. It was late. She put the card away. She would call tomorrow.

The next day Raquel was out with a friends. It was several days before Raquel had a night free and she again took the card from her purse.

“Today I'm going to call,” Raquel said.

She grabbed her phone and dialed the number before she had time to think about it.

The phone rang several times and a woman answered.

Raquel was shocked. She had not thought what she was going to say.

“Hello,” Raquel finally mustered.

“How can I help you?” the woman asked.

“A friend told me you have a club,” Raquel said.

“I think you have the wrong number,” the woman said.

“Have you had this number long?” Raquel asked.

“More than ten years,” the woman said.

“Then I don't have the wrong number,” Raquel said. “Karen told me you would not discuss this on the phone. Can we meet?”

“I don't know a Karen,” the voice said.

“She is ... missing,” Raquel said.

“Oh,” the woman said. “I don't know a Karen that is missing either.”

“We should meet,” Raquel said. “Someplace we can talk frankly.”

“I don't know anything about your missing friend,” the voice said.

“I understand,” Raquel said. “But we should still meet.”

“If you insist,” the woman said. “But I really don't know your missing friend.”

The woman gave Raquel an address and time the next evening to meet. It was her office in a building downtown.

Raquel thought over the conversation. Karen had said the woman would not say anything on the phone. Karen had said to use her name and asked to meet in person. The woman had agreed to meet, even though she denied knowing Karen. Someone who really didn't know her fiend Karen, would have never agreed to meet in person.

The next evening Raquel dressed as if going on a date. She wanted to look good to meet the mysterious woman. The address she was given was a building with lawyers and doctors offices plus a temp agency. The office number she had been given was 207 and it just said Planning Associates. Raquel wondered what kind of business that was.

Raquel knocked on the door and a woman came to open the door.  She was older and well dressed. Raquel was glad she had dressed for the meeting.

“You must be Raquel,” the woman said. “Right on time.”

“Yes, I am Raquel,” she said. “And you are?”

“You can call me Jennifer,” the woman said.

Jennifer led Raquel through her empty outer office into the inner office, which was also empty aside from an old wooden desk, a few chairs and some avant-garde art on the walls.

“Have a seat” Jennifer said gesturing towards a chair. Jennifer took a seat opposite the desk.

“Now, what can I do for you,” Jennifer said.

“My friend Karen told me you were in charge of a … club,” Raquel said.

“This is your missing friend,” Jenifer said. “And what kind of club did she tell you it was?”

Raquel took a deep breath.

“A suicide club,” Raquel said.

Jennifer laughed.

“I think someone is playing a practical joke on you,” Jennifer said. “The San Francisco suicide club disbanded in the early 80s. It was famous for practical jokes.”

“No, I mean a real suicide club,” Raquel said.

“Now I know someone has played a practical joke on you,” Jennifer said. “Since suicide is legal, you can find suicide assistance groups in the phone book. I don't provide that kind of service.”

“Karen told me you run a very selective suicide club,” Raquel said. “And I would have to convince you I was serious.”

“Well, if such a club existed,” Jennifer said. “I would hope it only accepted serious members.”

“So you do run a club like that” Raquel said.

“I didn't say that,” Jennifer said. “I said 'if such a club existed...'”

“Well it does,” Raquel said. “And obviously you run it.”

“Enough of this speculation,” Jennifer said. “Are you looking for this club to get revenge for you friend or because you want to join?”

Raquel took another deep breath.

“I want to join,” Raquel said.

“You are serious about that?” Jennifer asked.

“Yes,” Raquel said.

Jennifer reached into her desk and brought out a revolver. 

She pushed the release and the cylinder swung out. The gun was empty.  She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out one bullet. She inserted it in the cylinder, spun the cylinder and closed it. 

“Show me you are serious,” Jennifer said as she pushed the gun across the desk. “Put the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger.”

“What?” Raquel said. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now,” Jennifer said. “It's just like attending a suicide club meeting.”

Raquel slowly reached out and picked up the gun.

“I don't know anything about guns,” Raquel said.

“You do know how to put it in your mouth and pull the trigger,” Jennifer said.  “That's all you need to know.”

Raquel stared at the gun.  This is completely crazy she thought but it would be like attending a suicide club meeting Karen had described.

Raquel put the gun barrel in her mouth, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. 

There was only a metallic click.

 Raquel relaxed and pulled the gun out of her mouth and carefully placed it back on the desk.

“Most members hesitate far longer,” Jennifer said. “I believe you are serious.”

“What difference would a few more seconds have made,” Raquel said. “If the gun was going to blow my head off, a few more seconds or minutes wouldn't make any difference.”

 Jennifer put the gun back into her desk drawer.

“That is one hell of a membership test,” Raquel said.  “You lose one sixth of your applicants that way.”

“Not really,” Jennifer said. “The bullet is fake, not even a blank. You think I would let somebody blow their brains out in my office?”

“Oh,” Raquel said. “So the club does Russian Roulette with real bullets at its meetings?”

“Only on rare occasions,” Jennifer said. “Russian Roulette is reserved for private duels. Most events are hanging or drowning. The member is always randomly selected of course.”

“I didn't know about the private duels,” Raquel said. “Are they common?”

“Very rare,” Jennifer said. “But I should tell you that I won control of the club in such a duel ... but that was long time ago.”

“Wow,” Raquel said.

“We have events when we can get at least six members to come,” Jennifer said. “That minimum of six is borrowed from the six shooter revolver used in Russian Roulette.”

“I see,” Raquel said.  “How many members are there?”

“The club does have an attrition problem,” Jennifer said with a smile. “In fact attrition is the purpose of the club so it's not really a 'problem' but a feature. We lose one member every meeting. Including yourself, we now have six active members, seven if you count me, but I'm no longer an 'active' member. I just organize things.”

“So barely enough to hold a meeting,” Raquel said.

“Yes,” Jennifer said. “We have not had a meeting in some time, but I will organize an event as soon as possible.”

“What kind of event?”, Raquel asked.

“If I can arrange it, a drowning party on the Luxe,” Jennifer said.  

“What is the Luxe?” Raquel asked.

“It's a big luxury yacht,” Jennifer said. “And it has a good size swimming pool that we use for drowning. In the old days we weighted the bodies down and dumped them in the deep ocean afterwards, but that's no longer necessary.”

“So this is a licensed suicide club?” Raquel asked.

“Yes, I have some paperwork you will need to sign,” Jennifer said. “The club started before suicide was legalized, but we still use encrypted chat and email to set up events. We don't want non-members disrupting an event.”

“How did the club get started?” Raquel asked.

“Well, I don't go that far back,” Jennifer said. “The idea was supposed to have come from 'The Suicide Club' story by Robert Louis Stevenson. Initially the club was for both men and women, but after suicide became legal, I changed it to women only.”

“I don't think I've read that story,” Raquel said.

“You should,” Jennifer said.  “We usually do some kind of drawing cards similar to that story, but in that story the organizer of the suicide club is the bad guy. Now that suicide is legal, I'm not a bad anything.”

“I will read it,” Raquel said.

Jennifer had Raquel sign the forms and gave her direction on how to use encrypted email and chat.
 

It was late by the time Raquel got outside. Raquel felt excited to finally join the suicide club. Karen had said she felt more alive after joining the suicide club. More willing to take risks because her life could end any time.

Raquel remembered a bar downtown near some business hotels. Raquel wasn't the kind of girl that went to a bar alone, but she could be drowned in the swimming pool of the Luxe soon, so why not enjoy life while she could.

Next Chapter The Suicide Club -The Luxe Cruise