#suicidemachine

By almost any metric, I have a very unusual job. You see, I design thrill rides at amusement parks. More specifically, I create the CAD plans for next generation roller coasters. These brain-churning creations can be found in theme parks all over the world under different cliché names. Not to toot my own horn that much longer but several of my designs have been voted among the world’s top twenty favorites by thrill ride experts and aficionados.

Sadly I can’t officially come out and claim any of them as my own work. I’ve always operated in a freelance capacity because the major thrill ride manufacturers don’t pay their staff engineers squat. I trademark each of my mechanical plans and then sell them to the highest bidder with the understanding that they own the full rights.

Despite the loss of official design credit, it’s always been a lucrative, rewarding career. I also love that I’ve brought excitement to millions of people around the world. Even from an anonymous perspective, its a huge ego trip when my twisted steel creations are voted to be among the top twenty coasters in the world by trade experts and fans. I wish I could ‘name drop’ their goofy titles from time to time, but that would be a breach of contract. Suffice it to say, if you are a serious coaster enthusiast, you’ve probably experienced one of them.

About nine months ago I was approached by a new amusement park equipment manufacturer. I’d never heard of their company but their financial credentials checked out so I added them to my bidder’s list. Instead of desiring to purchase one of my new designs though, they had other things in mind. They wanted to commission a special project directly from me. Obviously that’s not my usual process. It can take more than a year to create one of these steel monsters. Frankly, I was very excited about the latest one I had just finished designing. I was anxious to start a bidding war on it; but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that it doesn’t hurt to hear someone out. I agreed to sit down with Mr. Hans Bruckmann.

Their chairman introduced himself and cut to the chase. He challenged me to “throw down the gauntlet and create a whole new level of terror”; specifically for their foreign market. I assume he must have bribed one of my regular customers to find out my identity. Strangely, he seemed unimpressed with the plans for my latest creation. He barely even glanced at the three dimensional model before returning to his request for a new Dutch project.

Frankly, I was a bit offended by his dismissive attitude and disinterest. I’ve designed three of the top thrill coasters in the world, for heaven’s sake! He acted as if all my past accomplishments and my newest ideas belonged at the state fair! Only later did I come to understood his reason for the reaction.

With enough time and money, I told him I could create something ‘out of this world’ but my accomplishments were already international award winners. How much more insanity could they really expect? No matter how much more I thought about it, I wasn’t ever going to be prepared for his answer. It didn’t even register at first. He informed me that he represents ‘The International right to die society’. Forgive me for not making a connection at first. I simply couldn’t put the two radically different things together. It just didn’t compute.

“International right to WHAT?”; I blurted out in confusion. He had to repeat himself twice. They wanted me to create an assisted suicide and euthanasia themed ‘amusement’ ride. I was absolutely dumbfounded. They intended to pay me to design a roller coaster so violently intense that it actually killed the customers! In the past, I used my engineering and CAD background to give the rider a potent but completely SAFE, survivable thrill. Now I was being asked to ignore all that and engineer a roller coaster so powerful and dangerous that the vast majority wouldn’t survive the experience! It was surreal.

I don’t have any issue with assisted suicide or euthanasia. I never have. At least not in theory. I fully support a person’s right to end their own life if they are unhappy, or terminally ill and in intolerable pain. The thing is, it’s one thing to allow others to do as they want with their own body. Actually helping them die is quite another. Among other things, I was greatly concerned about the legal consequences and liability.

You can bet your sweet patootie the authorities would track me down if there was any question of informed consent. To be honest, the whole thing made me squeamish. I wasn’t sure if I wanted anyone’s death on my conscience; even if they were in horrible pain. On the one hand, I’d be freeing them from their suffering but they don’t need a multi-million dollar contraption to do that. To say I was conflicted about the proposal was an understatement.

Mr. Bruckmann assured me their attorneys would notarize a legal writ declairing no liability for me. Each rider of the suicide coaster would be required to sign it beforehand. That really didn’t do very much to sway me. I needed some time to absorb the macabre proposal. There was such a controversial stigma against Dr. Kevorkian for his assisted suicide machines and all he was trying to do was help terminally ill people end their pain. Would my connection to this death coaster be uncovered? I didn’t want to be haunted by the notoriety.

When I expressed those concerns, Hans was ready. He came fully prepared to counter and justify their position. He admitted his company performed background checks on me while studying my engineering accomplishments in the amusement ride field. They found a social media post where I expressed admiration for Dr. Kevorkian and his sincere efforts to help people. With my background in ride engineering and appreciation for the figurehead of euthanasia, they felt I was a prime candidate for their controversial, Europe based project. While I was still partially undecided about it in the beginning, the boatload of cash they offered and the foreign location of their park did tip the scales considerably.

And so it began. Once I was firmly seduced by the questionable idea of ‘helping people in pain AND sending them out with a bang’, I really did ‘throw down the gauntlet’. I even considered that ambiguous phrase for my project name before briefly changing it to: ‘The Kevorkian’. As clear of a message as that name would’ve sent, Hans’ organization would want to avoid potential lawsuits from Dr. Kevorkian’s family and relatives. In the end I settled on the less-than-subtle: ‘Body Bag’.

For once I didn’t have to worry about safety. Under normal circumstances I had to temper my imagination with practical matters. I couldn’t put the rider through too many G’s or cause their heart to explode in their chest. Causing cardiac failure or brain aneurysms was very bad for future business. I had to balance rider safety with maximum thrills. That was the idea. Now I could take the brakes off and deliver the ultimate thrill experience. One that no one survived. I got so wrapped up in the raw ambition of achieving those morbid goals that I suppressed my feelings over its questionable morality.

Only when the CAD renderings were complete did I take a step back and ponder the grotesque idea. I was about to be directly responsible for thousands killing themselves. Sure, they wanted to die and were in great physical or mental pain, but it was still a heavy thing to contemplate.

The designers of automobiles might have the same pangs of conscience but at least they can sooth their conscience by recognizing that deaths from their design are accidental. It’s not the purpose of any car to kill its passengers. It’s just an unfortunate side effect. The sole purpose of ‘Body Bag’ is to end lives. My creation couldn’t even be compared to the guillotine. It had been designed for the benevolent purpose of offering a more humane form of capital punishment; to the previous drawn-out methods. Mine just offered a sadistic send off. I even tried to back out of the deal but Bruckmann reminded me of the iron-clad contract I signed and the long gone money that I accepted and spent. I had dug the hole. Now I had no choice but to take my place in it. Instead, I struggled with the gravity of my deadly creation until its opening day, outside Amsterdam.

The park begun a marketing blitz months earlier and the press had a field day with it. The headlines made international news and I was terrified my name and reputation as a top notch amusement ride designer would be dragged through the mud for building a ‘murder machine’. Such ugly accusations were levied against Hans’ company but to his credit, he kept my identity confidential as promised. I tried to avoid reading the testimonials from the people who intended to use my creation but I wasn’t able to resist.

To my surprise, reading them helped ease my conscience. These were people from all walks of life, with one thing is common. They were in unrelenting pain from terminal illnesses and they wanted to end life on their terms. As frightening as stepping into a ‘Body Bag’ car might have been to the average person, it took even more courage to say “No more. I am done with pain.” I read similar, uplifting sentiments from hundreds of people, interviewed as they prepared to ride.

There was an interesting side effect too. A number of people backed out. Upon being faced with immanent death, they realized they weren’t quite ready yet. It helped them realize that life still had hope and meaning for them, despite the pain. Overall, reading the person stories helped alleviate my morose feelings. For every anti-euthanasia diatribe hurled by political pundits and televangelists, there were a hundred positive things directed at me by the people who actually matter.

I felt much better about my actions but that’s when things took an even more bizarre turn. A few days after the grand opening, I started getting creepy feelings during the afternoon and night. It was as if I wasn’t really alone. First it was only a shadow or two in the corner which I couldn’t explain but soon, it escalated to full-blown paranormal activity. Seeing the spirits of the dead manifest themselves in your living room will quickly get your attention. Call me naive Atheist if you wish but at first I didn’t have a clue who they were. Prior to their appearance I didn’t even believe in the spirit realm. All of a sudden, I was the quintessential first step in the tour of the living.

The thing is, no one articulates this fact about the supernatural world. The spirits of dead people are just as limited in their language choices as their living counterparts. If they couldn’t speak English before, they can’t in the afterlife either. I learned that tidbit through a rather awkward confrontation with a recent passenger of the ‘Body Bag’. While wandering spirits aren’t gifted with universal language abilities, they are able to ascertain the hidden architect of their demise. As far as ghost confrontations go, they have been tolerable so far. It seems that the departed want to seek me out and thank me for helping them move on.