Novel & Cerita A Generation Of Sociopaths

I said and sat down on my bed. She came inside my room and closed the door slowly. "You know, there are people who don't feel emotions at all. They don't feel happy, or sad, or angry, guilt, they don't feel anything." I explained to her. "And I'm one of those people, kid. I can't feel emotions." I continued. "So, the rumors are true. You're just like your sociopath mom, who is in jail right now. Well, why would I be surprised? You're a daughter of a nutcase." She uttered with a very unfamiliar tone.

I roll my eyes, "Don play around, let’s be serious." "I'm not playing around, Isabella. He's a diagnosed sociopath," he says and, holy shit, he's totally telling the truth, "He lacks empathy and morality and he just doesn't feel things like the rest of us, but instead of letting it become a weakness, he found a way to make profit out of it. That's how it started, he came to Greyhound to clean up rich people's messes, including Alpha Robert and his circle of friends. If anyone had someone they wanted to get rid of, they would call my father and he would take them to the cabin to kill them. Or to dispose of any bodies they left lying around. Back then, those guys loved to have underground wolf

People with antisocial personalities are highly impulsive and aggressive, have no sense of shame and are unable to accept or be accepted by society. "I, too, am a sociopath," he says with a laugh. "I have never been born with such things as conscience and shame, and I am very likely to become a murderous criminal because of my ability. Don't you think I'd be better off finding my own kind and using them as guinea pigs to pass the time, rather than doing something worse?" Looking at Madman's dark green eyes and weird totem tattoos, I shuddered. It dawned on me that Madman, if he really was mad, was only as mad as Hansel.

“Oooh, a wood chipper. Can’t you kill Baron that way?” I laugh and shake my head. “These are fifth- and sixth-generation neophytes. They’re easy to kill. Baron will break the wood chipper before it reaches his knees.” I empty my glass and put it to the side. “They’re getting worse you know? With each new generation, they’re worse.” “What does that mean?”

"You're telling me an entire secret organization spent decades trying to build the perfect human?" Lucien corrected him. "The perfect decision maker." Dante's expression darkened. "Human beings aren't projects." "No." Lucien agreed calmly. "They're investments." The statement made everyone uncomfortable. Except Lucien. Aruna's hands clenched. "How many children?" Neither Evelyn nor Lucien answered immediately. Which was answer enough. Too many. Far too many. "The first generation failed." Evelyn spoke quietly. "The second generation became unstable." Lucien continued. "The third generation developed emotional dependency."

“My father is changing, Girard. Even from here, across miles of open air, I can feel the rot in our shared blood. He’s not a man anymore, but he isn’t like you. He’s a hollowed-out shell, a ghost filled with nothing but the Morettis’ ambition.” “The synthetic gene is a parasite,” Girard said, his amber eyes catching the dim cabin light. “It grants the strength of an Alpha, but it eats the soul to fuel the engine. It creates what we call a ‘Ghost Wolf’—a creature with all the predatory instinct of the beast but none of the honor of the pack. He won’t just try to kill us. He’ll try to consume us.”

"I did everything for you! How dare you throw me under the bus!" "For me? You clearly did this because you resented Audrey!" As they fought like dogs, I turned my attention to Lucy's friends. They panicked, crying out, "This is a civilized society! If you kill us, you'll face legal consequences!" Troy put his hand on my shoulder and sneered at them. "Do you really think I'm afraid? I must have played nice for too long, making you forget who I really am." They fell silent, suddenly remembering that Troy had been a violent criminal since childhood, thanks to his genetic condition. Many called him a psychopath, others whispered about his “rage episodes”.

Valero faced down and let a small chuckle, then looked up to the sky as though he was searching for the right words. “I knew you were not going to believe me.” He said it so plainly like that was the most acceptable thing to hear. “Because this is the mafia, Valero. You do not just wake up and decide to not be part of it anymore. This is generational, and you know it. You quit now, you run across the world and hide in a ditch, the shit is still going to catch up with you. You've done enough shit to haunt you for ten lifetimes, don't think you can just walk away from it.” I intoned, and he nodded.

DON VINCENZO’S POV~ “It wasn't always like this, but this generation mafia's birth ruined the brotherhood's real meaning and the greatness of the old ways. You have all softened over time you have never felt the sweetness, the raw power of the mafia, now everyone is a fucking rat, greedy bastard’s everywhere, the mafia where I was a young boy is what I will instil in Tomas but the bitches I married and bore are hell-bent on making my boy! My only boy! Turn soft.

Before Sandy came to live with us, I lived harmoniously with my two older brothers Carl and Tony. They cared about me a lot, too. After Sandy arrived, everything changed. They started ignoring me, doting on her instead. I wanted so badly to fit in and play with them, but they always shut me out. One time, as I was trying to win them over, I carefully made drinks for everyone. Tony and Sandy both refused, but Carl drank it. He ended up poisoned and was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment.