Diary Of A Psychopath Novels & Stories

Annelle grumbled, ignoring the louder laughter. The crazy idea that she could fall in love with this idiot with bipolar disorder was nothing more than a moment of insanity. Now he is cheerful and mischievous, but when it comes to summing up the results of the inspection, it is better for him not to fall under the hot hand. What was really going on in his head, only the devil knows. Most of the time they dined in silence, or rather, Annelle ate alone. The chef called the waiters over to him several times. Of the three workers, only a young boy, no older than twenty years old, properly introduced himself.

Others seemed relatively normal, except they kept insisting that Warren Buffett had stolen their brain… I muttered to myself, “Is there even a single normal person in here?” While the nurse was handing out the medication, I seized the moment, rushed forward, grabbed her arm, and asked, “You’ve got the wrong person, right? I’m not sick. Why did you bring me here?” Unexpectedly, the other patients started copying me. They surged forward in a mob. “Yeah! We’re not crazy either! The crazy one is the world!” The nurse frowned, then pulled out a stun baton from behind her back.

She pressed some passcode somewhere around it, she could tell that she was pressing some passcode because of the sound it was making. “Do you want to know what is here? ‘Heather, 'she asked, emphasizing on the name. “It contains the list of all the crimes Oliver had committed and evidence. The asshole loves to keep a memo in order to give a pat on the back of his narcissistic self.” The woman said. “After you die, he is going to keep something on you as a memo that he succeeded in ruining you, he is a psychopathic bastard.” She was already feeling too dizzy, she was losing a lot of blood and the damn woman just kept on going on and on, she should keep shut and let her go to the other side in

“Do you like killing people?” “Still trying to diagnose me as a psychopath?” I ask with a smirk. He smiles sheepishly, “I’m just trying to understand you. From what little I was told about you; you weren’t painted in a good light. I was told you’re cold, sadistic, and ruthless. I’ve seen you be ruthless; I’ve seen you be cold, but I haven’t seen you once be sadistic. In fact, I’ve seen you be compassionate a few times. You’re not like what I thought you were. For someone with such a terrifying reputation, you’ve shown me nothing but kindness. In your own weird way that is,” he explains.

"It is Stacie's diary. Every evil thing that you ever did to her is written inside it. She always said you were a monster, and I never believed it until I saw this. You are horrible, April.” "Since you said you wanted to know what happened. That right there is exactly what happened, April." Confusion filled my mind as I picked up the black diary. Stacie, diary? Together with Paige, they had always acted like princesses, and I didn’t take her as someone who would keep a diary. I flipped through the pages and was even more confused. It was so vividly written. Did I actually do all these things to her? No, I couldn't have. I couldn't remember.

“Oh, you guys are not going to believe this. Our little spy is a massive freak.” I adjusted my posture, holding the diary up to the ambient light of the limo. “‘If he pushed me against the bookshelves, I wouldn’t even fight back,’” I read, my voice dripping with dark amusement. “‘I want him to take control. I want him to rip this stupid sweater off me. I can practically feel his hands gripping my thighs, bruising my skin, pushing his huge dick inside my tight and wet aching pussy while he whispers my name…’”

I stood beside his bed, it was the second day since I took over his case. His report file doesn't say much just, 'Name: Leo Rockwell. Age: 26 Parents: Not known.' His condition said that he is a psychopath who is quite violent, he never spoke much with doctors. His interactions with doctors are nearly zero. I sighed at thoughts about the hardships I have to face to cure him. I looked at his face, he was sleeping quite deeply. I felt a bond with him though I met just yesterday and his first impression was not that good. I wasn't even able to see him clearly cause the room was still dark. The nurse had told me not to pull the curtains and let the sunshine come in cause he hates sunlight and it

Without even hearing his response I already touched the end call. I’m doomed. Do I need to wait or not? I didn’t even hear him. Poppycock! I was standing at Sevi’s front door still knocking and trying to calm him down. I wasn’t trying to open the door myself since the last time I do that, a flying glass greeted my face. It was better not to force him to calm down. That’s the last Psychologist said as a token of advice after she resigns. I had hired many Doctors before but no one can handle him once his PTSD struck.

I'm sure you'll know it's him when you cross parts with him* *If you find a girl or a boy(hopefully it's a girl hopefully she's lovable enough for you. You know what I mean) with the frequency, she will need the journal. Not this one. There's another journal. She probably won't be able to read it until she's ready, but when she is, the Harland collection has a companion text that describes the process. The companion text is called the Respondent. If the man has the collection, he may have the Respondent too.*

Tearing my gaze away from him, I unfold my slip of paper. The correct definition of a psychopath -according to g****e- is a person suffering from chronic mental disorder with abnormal or violent behavior. But I know that our English teacher, Mr. Williams, wouldn't accept that answer. He wants us to define it based on our personal experience. Everyone in the class thinks I have plenty of experience.