Suicide Hotline (The One Percent Book 2)

by Tim Miller

  For the next few weeks, nothing happened. He’d contemplated his own suicide in that time, but he didn’t own a gun. Had no access to enough sleeping pills to do any good and he wasn’t about to cut himself or jump from any high places. He was starting to figure the Hotline was nothing but some kind of prank. It was an elaborate one, but someone was getting a kick out of it. That was until the next morning, just after 9 a.m. His phone wouldn’t stop ringing. He was sure he’d put it on silent the night before, but it was ringing non-stop.

  Leaning over he looked at the screen to see a message waiting.

  Be outside in five minutes

  Shit. Was this for real? He hoped so, this was what he wanted. What did they have in mind? He got up, got dressed, and headed upstairs.

  “Where you going?” Larry asked. “Why are you up so early? Haha! It’s not even noon yet. Fuckin’ loser.”

  Lenny ignored him as he walked outside. He’d barely made it to the curb when the black SUV pulled up. The door swung open and a man in a black mask and fatigues grabbed him and pulled him inside. At first he thought he was being kidnapped, until they placed him in one of the seats and handed him a rifle.

  “Hey sport,” the large man said. “That’s not loaded. We’ll take care of the shooting. You just tag along. When the time comes, I’ll take care of you. Any questions?”

  “Um, no. I don’t think so.”

  “Ok. Good.”

  Lenny looked out the window of the SUV as they sped toward the final moments of his life.

  2.

  Tessa Johnson

  Cedar Rapids, Iowa

  Tessa watched the screaming children run around. Most of them toddlers, the oldest one was six. She had been running her in-home daycare for just over a year. One of her friends had been at it for ten years. Tessa had no idea how she did it. Just over a year in, and each day it was all Tessa could do not to run screaming from her house. The kids weren’t so bad. They were mostly well behaved. It just never stopped.

  “Tessa, I’m hungry.”

  “Tessa, I’m bored.”

  “Tessa, I’m tired.”

  “Tessa, I gotta go potty.”

  “Tessa, I pottied in my pants.”

  It. Never. Stopped. Ever. Even when her daycare kids were gone, she was left with her own toddler, Dustin. He was almost two years old but had to be the most strong-willed child in existence. Try to feed him when he doesn’t want to eat? Food is going down your shirt or on the floor. Put him down for a nap when he’s not tired? He will scream non-stop for hours. Hours. Literally. No breaks, not even a small break to catch his breath, and forget him wearing himself out. Not gonna happen. Dustin eats, sleeps, pisses and shits when HE is ready. Not one second before.

  As one of the toddlers streaked past her, she saw him head into the bedroom, which was off limits. She jumped up to see what he was up to. Before she could reach the door the sound of glass breaking came from the bedroom, followed by blood-curdling screams. She ran into the room to see the boy sitting around a pile of broken glass with blood oozing out of his hand. He had plowed into a nightstand and knocked over her grandma’s vase. The vase had been in the family for several generations. Probably the closest thing to an heirloom she’d ever owned. Not that these little brats gave a shit.

  “Jesus, Bobby. Are you ok?” she knelt down to look at the cut. It was deep but not too bad. It wouldn’t need stitches. He continued screaming as she took him by the other hand and led him to the bathroom.

  She cleaned out the wound and dressed it with some gauze before putting him down for a nap. The whole event had tired him out. He went to sleep before the other kids. The rest were being quiet enough for her to call Bobby’s mom to tell her about the accident. That didn’t go well at all.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m paying you to watch my kid and you let him just slash his wrist? Did you take him to the ER?” his mom screamed.

  “No. The bleeding stopped, it wasn’t that bad. I wrapped it good and disinfected it. He’s sleeping now.”

  “You sure he’s not dead?”

  “Yes. He’s fine. I promise.”

  “How much am I paying you again?”

  “Please. I’m sorry. It was just an accident. He took off running and broke the vase before I could reach him.”

  “That’s why you’re supposed to WATCH him! Like I’m fucking paying you. You know what? Fuck this. I’m not dealing with this shit. I’m taking off work and picking up my son. I’m not paying you shit either. I’m done with you.”

  “What? Why? It’s one little accident. Just a scratch.”

  “Yeah! This time!” the woman hung up as Tessa sat there holding the phone, trying to take deep breaths. She couldn’t afford to lose another kid. She was down two already. The last two were twins who’d moved away. She hadn’t filled their spots yet, and the lost income was hurting. Losing Bobby was really going to sting.

  Less than an hour later, his mom had come and gone taking him with her. Bobby hadn’t woken up throughout the whole ordeal. Tessa was at least glad for that. The woman stood and berated Tessa for several minutes before up and leaving. Finally, 5 p.m. came and went, and one by one parents came to collect their kids. Before long it was just her and Dustin.

  “Dustin? Are you hungry?”

  “NO!” he screamed as he ran into the play room. She sighed and sat at the table. She could really use a bottle of wine, or two. She flipped open her laptop and headed into the dark web. She’d discovered it months before when someone on Facebook had mentioned it. She had joined various dark sites and message boards about suicide.

  She didn’t consider herself actively suicidal, but it was always in the back of her mind. She’d suffered clinical depression since she’d been a teenager. This wasn’t helped by the fact that her ex had run off with a nineteen-year-old almost two years before. Leaving her alone to raise Dustin. The home daycare situation was the only job she could do and still take care of Dustin. She’d tried working other jobs and putting him into daycare, but no place wanted him.

  Most of the sites were roleplaying, where people would talk about and fantasize about various ways to commit suicide. One girl talked about cutting her own throat. Just the thought of it turned her on, she’d said. Another wanted to move to San Francisco and jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. She had this whole romantic idea about it. None of those things sounded like pleasant ways to die to Tessa.

  When she was nineteen she’d swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills. After a trip to the ER and then a week in the psych ward, she was finally let out. That was the only attempt she’d ever made and the only time she’d ever been hospitalized. A few weeks ago, someone on the board had mentioned the Suicide Hotline. It sounded pretty ‘out there’ to her, but one of the members supposedly had contacted them.

  A short time later, Tessa found herself on the Hotline’s site. Out of curiosity she had filled out the online form and hit submit. After the letdown of nothing happening immediately afterward, she forgot all about it. Several weeks went by before she received a knock on her door. It was a handsome young man in a suit. He’d arrived just after the other kids had left for the day. It had been an unusually rough day, so the last thing she felt like was any visitors. But something about him made her open the door.

  “Good afternoon,” he said. “You must be Tessa.”

  “Yes? And you are…”

  “Mr. Black. From the Suicide Hotline. So nice to meet you.” He reached out and shook her hand. She could only imagine the look on her own face when he mentioned the Hotline. She’d all but forgotten about it since being on the site.

  “Is this…Are you a cop?”

  “Oh God, no,” he said laughing. “Of course not. I assure you I’m quite far from a cop. May I come in?”

  She stepped aside as he walked inside. They headed to the dining room where they sat at the table, Mr. Black sitting across from her.

  “So. You know what we do, right?”

  “Yes. I th
ink so.”

  “We took the liberty of checking into your past. We’re always careful before taking the next step. We do our research. You’ve had a pretty dark past yourself. Hospitalization, failed suicide attempt. So this time you decided to call the experts. Correct?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Good. Now, what do we do? We make sure you are never forgotten. We started out just helping people kill themselves. But that just felt so empty, so wasteful. So we added a new layer. We will give your life meaning. Right now if you googled Tessa Johnson, what would you find?”

  “Not much, I suppose.”

  “Exactly. Once we provide our services, the next day you will be a nationwide news story. Possibly worldwide.”

  “So what do you do exactly?”

  “We select a suitable target. We bring in our experienced operators, all former military Special Forces. These men go through and kill as many people as they can at the target and before the authorities arrive, they will take your life quickly and painlessly before vanishing into thin air. Our men are like ghosts. No one even has any idea they exist.”

  The idea of killing a bunch of people didn’t make her feel so great.

  “Like what kind of target, though? I mean what if I don’t want to hurt anyone?”

  “We find a group of deserving individuals and take them out. Trust me, no innocents are involved. It’s all very clean.”

  Very clean. She was having a hard time wrapping her head around all this. Did she really want to die? After today she sure did. Some days, death felt like the only escape. The only way out. She wasn’t religious and had never believed in heaven or hell. To her, death meant sleep, which meant rest. She’d hadn’t had any rest in years. There was no end in sight to her daily torment. She loved Dustin and the kids, but hated them at the same time.

  She would be forty-five in a few months, but most of her best years will be spent raising children. By the time Dustin turned eighteen she’d be almost sixty. While that wasn’t extremely old, it was hardly young. She didn’t even want to think about it. She remembered her mom was in her late fifties when she’d first started having serious health issues. Go through her whole life dealing with screaming brats, and the instant she was finally on her own, she’d get sick. Just how her luck would go. No, she’d rather spare herself the years of suffering on multiple levels.

  She liked the idea of being remembered. Of going down in history as famous or at least infamous. Most of her life, people had walked all over her. She had always been either invisible or insignificant. This would be a great way for her to leave her mark. All those people who told her she was worthless or who shit all over her, especially her ex… maybe some of them would be one of the targets.

  “You said it would be painless?” she asked.

  “Absolutely. You won’t feel a thing. It will be very quick and peaceful. You have my word.”

  “When will it happen?”

  “We need some time to organize the operation. Plus, for security, I can’t give you an exact time and place. Just know we will be in touch the day of. It will all happen quickly. So make any final arrangements soon and be ready. Agreed?” He put his hand out.

  “Agreed,” she said as she shook it. He stood and nodded to her as he walked out of the house. She sat there for a minute, thinking about what she’d just agreed to. She was going to die, and soon. That was the deal she’d just sealed. Part of her wondered if she could back out at some point. Could she change her mind? Did they have a cancellation policy? It wasn’t likely. There were really no arrangements to make. She wished she knew when it would happen so she could take Dustin to her mom’s at least. Hopefully he wouldn’t see anything that would scar him for life. She got up to fix dinner and went about the rest of her day, wondering what the Hotline would actually do and what death would feel like.

  Over the next several weeks, Tessa was much more at peace. She didn’t even care about having lost the third kid out of her daycare. She still had four kids to watch, plus Dustin. That would be enough to keep her busy until they came for her. After a few weeks, she thought about it less and less. While she longed to finally be done and away from her miserable life, that same life still went on. Unless she decided to take matters into her own hands. Which she’d never have the guts to do.

  The day they arrived had been a nightmare. Dustin decided to hit or pinch all of the other kids, repeatedly. She wasn’t going to even bother trying to explain it to the other parents. All she wanted to do was run screaming away from her house as fast as she could. All of the other kids screamed endlessly all day. Lunch had turned into a food fight, and not a fun one.

  Her carpet had been saturated with fruit punch and one of them decided to mash a fruit roll up into the carpeting, leaving a huge sticky clump right in the center of the living room. Another boy had thrown a Transformer at the TV, cracking her LCD screen. The one girl she watched had diarrhea, having an accident on the dining room floor. Leaving a long, brown trail in the carpet.

  The rest of the day the kids chased each other around, banged into things and screamed. Just when she didn’t think she could take any more, the doorbell rang. At the time, the Hotline was the furthest thing from her mind. She’d all but given up on them. Maybe Mr. Black had been just some guy fucking with her. Maybe he was really some weird stalker. Maybe they were real and decided she wasn’t worthy for whatever reason.

  That all changed when the doorbell rang. The kids didn’t stop screaming or even slow down as she stumbled past them to get to the door. When she opened it, three men wearing black masks and black fatigues were in her doorway.

  “Tessa Johnson?” one of them said.

  “Uh…yes?”

  “We’re from the Hotline. It’s time,” the man said as they pushed their way past her and into the house. One of them pushed her away from the door as he locked the deadbolt.

  “What are you doing? Why now? What’s the target? I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t worry, sport. We’ll take care of everything.”

  One of the men went into the bathroom and began running water. It was the bathtub. She went in to see what was going on but one of the other men stopped her.

  “Just sit tight. We got it under control. It will all be over in a few minutes.”

  Panic started to set in as her mind raced. What were they doing? What is the target? How would they kill her?

  “You know,” she told one of the men. “I been kind of having second thoughts.”

  “It’s too late for that,” he said. “Once you made the agreement with Mr. Black, everything was set in motion. There’s no stopping it.”

  “What? How am I going to die? Why won’t you tell me anything?”

  “Look. Pull yourself together and this shit will all go down smoothly.”

  After a few more minutes the first man came out of the bathroom.

  “All right, it's ready.”

  The other men began scooping up the kids as they ran by. Two of the men had one of the boys under his arm. One of them had Dustin, who was screaming.

  “Mommy! Mommy!” he cried as they carried the boys toward the bathroom.

  “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, sport. Just bath time is all,” the other man said. She followed them to the bathroom and watched as the masked man took the boy under his arm and dunked the child face first into the tub.

  “NO!” Tessa screamed as she lunged at him. The man behind her grabbed her in a reverse bear hug, his hands locked around her waist. She watched as the boy struggled helplessly as water bubbled up. The man held the boy’s head under until the bubbles stopped and he stopped moving. He continued holding him under for another minute after his tiny body had gone limp. Once the child was still, the man picked the boy back up and carried him out of the bathroom.

  Tessa cried as the next man walked up with Dustin. Dustin let out one more scream before he went under.

  “Mommy! Help!” he cried as h
is face was pushed under the water.

  “Please! Not my little boy! Don’t hurt my little boy!” she sobbed as the men ignored her. She put her hands over her face, trying to ignore the sounds of her only child drowning right in front of her. So this was their target. Their plan to make her famous was to drown her child and the daycare kids before killing her. Were they going to drown her too? Who knows. She thought they’d go shoot up a bar or someplace full of assholes.

  She looked up as the man carried Dustin’s lifeless body past her. He was soaking wet and his face was blue. The man holding her dragged her out of the room as the other two men grabbed the other kids and brought them to the tub. The little girl put up the most fight. She ran around the house and hid under the bed. One of the men had to lift the mattress to drag her out. Soon the house was the quietest it had ever been. She could see into the bedroom where they’d lain each child.

  All four of them were lying on their backs, with their hands folded over their tiny chests. Tears ran down Tessa’s face as the man holding her leaned into her and spoke softly.

  “Ok. Your turn. This is it,” he said.

  She didn’t resist as he guided her to the bathroom. What little will she’d had to live was long gone. The world would remember her as a child murderer. It was all her. She’d done this. It was her stupid suicidal thoughts that had set this into motion. If she’d only had the guts to do herself in, she could have just taken her own life and left the kids out of it.

  They got her into the bathroom, and the man let go of her.

  “Ok. Get undressed. Don’t worry. It’s nothing sexual. We’re not going to touch you like that. This is all for the visual when they find you.”

  She removed her shirt, jeans, bra and panties. One of the men picked up her clothes and tossed them into a pile in the corner.

  “All right. Get in the tub.”

  Still in her mental fog, stepped in. The water was lukewarm as she settled in and leaned back. One of the men took out a straight razor and grabbed her wrist. She knew what was coming. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and took a deep breath. There was no use in fighting them. She was about to die a murderer… a child murderer.