American Pyscho Novels & Stories

Catelin Pov I sighed heavily leaning my back against the bed's headboard. My eyes fell on his sleeping face before again another sigh left from my lips. God. Why is he so confusing. Why his mental illness is so hard to point out that what is it. I can't do anything except make efforts to bring him to the doctor. I know that the aggressive side of his is extremely cunning. While the kid side of his is weirdly manipulative. Then what was the personality I just witnessed last night when he confessed his love for me?

“Did you hear the rules for today?” “Yeah. They said there are ghosts tonight.” “That’s not the important part. The key is that no one is allowed to leave their room. It’s the perfect chance to frame someone.” “How do we frame them?” “Later, two women will come into this room. One is skin and bones, practically collapsing from a breeze. The other is autistic and doesn’t speak. Tonight, we kill the thin one and pin it on the autistic girl. We’ll get everyone to vote her out tomorrow.”

A lot of crazy ideas were running through her head, but she was determined to go with the craziest one. She approached the car trunk and, to her surprise, it was not locked. She looked around, making sure no one was watching, and quietly slipped into the car trunk. She didn't mind the suffocation; she would rather die than watch her friend being treated awfully. Minutes later, she felt the car door open and close, indicating that the driver was back. The car roared back into life, and the journey that would change everything she had ever seen in her life began. She was leaving behind her painting career to go dine with the devil. Would she be the same Adriana that escaped her parents' mansio

Alli’s POV Lena’s apartment smelled like lavender and popcorn. It was clean in the way only a single girl’s place could be—succulents on the windowsill, throw blankets artfully tossed over a plush gray couch, the faint buzz of a true crime podcast coming from the Bluetooth speaker. Alli stood in the middle of the living room with her bag still in her hand, her body vibrating like a tuning fork someone forgot to stop. Lena didn’t press her. She just handed over a cold bottle of Topo Chico and motioned toward the couch.

And the appointment began. *Zayn* "Zayn I don't have time for this." I was starting to get pissed off by her attitude but I couldn't shake the feeling that this cold image was hiding something underneath. Before I could reply he ended the phone call, leaving me speechless. We hadn't talked after the weekend and truth is this was the first time all week that I had time to call her. I have been busy dealing with the Mexicans and their charade they were so persistent to keep up. Alec, Brandon and I have barely slept these days, let's not refer to the neglection of our needs. We still hadn't found the catch in all of this, but a clue had been given to us by one of their dealers which we captured

“He is the fucking psychopath, even science approves it, he is clinically diagonsed with ASPD.” His words were beyond ratioanlity, not even her worst nightmares, could have imagine that, “Do you think I will just believe anything you say.” her lips part, her heart skipped a beat, as sweat formed on her face, even with the chilling cold. “I don’t care if you don’t believe me, naive girl, go on then, live your life.”his body ached everywhere, his senses hightened with pain.

The calm guy said. I was still in my previous position. Didn’t move a muscle. I wonder what they are going to do next. The bars open, I could tell from the sound. My eyes were closed but I could still sense two shadows standing in front of me. “I can’t believe we caught him alive. I heard a lot about this guy before and he is a fucking psycho.” The calm guy said and the other one sounded even panic. “Hurry! I don’t want to end up like Eric! It could be that he was awake by now.”

he suddenly spoke, and when I turned to him, I saw him staring into space. "I really don't know the ruthless psychotic Alpha Ryan in person, but I know him by his title. So if you're truly him, did you accept such a title for yourself? You know, a psychotic Alpha, are sick of psychosis, or is it just a rumor? Aren't you trying to stop such a title? It's viral, and you're indeed famous. But now that I've come to think about it, you don't act like a very famous Alpha. You aren't the RP. Alpha Ryan, right? Because he definitely wouldn't be someone as handsome as you. He should be an old man with long artificial hair and a bald head, right?"

He remembered every dirty thing we’d done. I stepped sideways, letting a taller woman block me from view. My pulse hammered so loud I was sure everyone could hear it. How was this possible? Andy—my Andy—had been wild. Reckless. Proud of how many girls he could make scream. He used to joke he’d never settle down because pussy was his religion. Now he was a priest. I couldn’t breathe. The memories crashed over me in vivid flashes: his hands pinning my wrists, his mouth between my thighs for hours, the way he’d growl “take it all” while he fucked me senseless on Saturdays that lasted until Sunday dawn.

His head became hazy yet calm and he could feel his penis grow. He stroked his penis slowly. “...am I about to jerk off to a man?” he asked himself. Clarke was already seated at the bar counter....he wore a casual black T-shirt with “ Harry style is my style” boldly inscribed on the chest and backplane trousers. Anyone would know that black could be his favorite color. He had already been offered a shot of vodka. If he was going to do something he might regret, he better do it while on cloud nine.