Gambar Psychopath Novels & Stories

"Your Honor, the psychological evaluation report on Ronald Werther's youngest son, Thomas Werther, has been completed. I believe this report has significant bearing on the nature of this case." The judge permitted him to speak. The psychiatrist took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping across the courtroom before finally landing on the gaunt, hollow figure in the defendant's box. "After joint consultations among multiple specialists and brain scan comparisons, we have reached a very rare but definitive conclusion." The psychiatrist paused and enunciated each word clearly, "Thomas Werther suffers from an extremely severe, congenital case of Antisocial Personality Disorder. In layman's terms, he i

My Bully is Psycho Chapter five Isabella "I missed hurting you Isabel " his taunting voice dripped with menace. What a psychotic thing to say... I looked into his gaze for any trace of remorse, if I could perhaps see a glimpse of my childhood best friend, the one person I missed so much. It wasn't there. This was a totally different person, and all I could manage to find in those gray eyes were hate and disgust. "Let me go! " I hissed out in pain, if anything his grip tightened around my shoulders even more, his nails digging painfully.

He checks me up, his eyes lingering on my now half exposed breasts. “Don't worry though if you end up bleeding to death,I'll just throw your body into the sea. Of course after I fuck your perfect gorgeous body.” I wince at the crudeness of his words. Indeed, he is a psychopath. Who talks about raping a dead body like it a recipe they are discussingdiscussing? “You are sick in the head.”I spat and the man just grins. “You are not the first one to tell me that sweetness.I have always been sick in the head. Tell me something new.”he shrugs nonchalantly.

And worse is that I didn't understand half of them. "What?" I'm starting to feel like I said this word a lot even though it's not my fault… it's his, it's always his. "You're saying that you are a psychopath? Because you have something to do with this then that must mean you are a psychopath too." He sounded so calm saying this, he even might have sounded bored but I knew he wasn't, I knew he was enjoying himself because… because the evidence was poking against my lower back. He was enjoying this sick game of his because Savaş Ewald was a sick and twisted person who didn't know limits.

As a psychopath, this pattern was what was most evident to me, and I gained stimuli or shall i say… the same effect of orgasm when I control people? It was also easy for me to play different characters to create a false sense of clarity in others, like I did to Haiden. Haiden… was my favorite puppet so far. He was intuitive and knew a lot of things without knowing, but somehow he always listened to me because he had trust issues that made him distrustful of even himself.

Peter became increasingly perplexed by his boss's behavior, which he thought displayed signs of a mental disorder. Felix's character seemed akin to that of a person with multiple personalities. Indeed, all this time, he had perceived Felix's character as somewhat psychopathic. Felix appeared to derive great pleasure from seeing his opponents helpless before him without regret. However, on several occasions, Peter had observed Felix consulting a psychiatrist. Still, Felix had never disclosed the results of those medical evaluations to him.

My friends were always there for me, it was only those envious kids who carried it upon themselves that I was a psychopath. Despite being matured, some of them are already parents, but childishness wouldn't consider that they were already matured. They were still putting their noses into my life, going around with all sorts of news about the IRP Alpha. Scarlett is noticeably as troublesome as them; matured, but behaves like kids. After I began distancing myself from the females of my school's who were fond of gathering their future Alpha like bird-brained flies, that was when I was given the name, 'A psychopath.'

The man huffs a humorless laugh. “The family I work for … there is … eh … was three boys.” The pause on ‘was’ prickles goosebumps along my arms, leaving me wondering what happened. Another sigh rattles out of him, heavy enough to shake the glass. “Brothers,” the man insists. His voice grows colder, heavier. “Living proof that psychopathy is genetic.” He’s got me all curious. “The youngest one … he was a real good guy. Straight shooter. A lover, not a fighter.” His mouth twitches, as though the memory still tastes sweet and sour at the same time.

The estate gates disappear behind us as we merge onto the highway. "Have you ever heard of psychopaths?" His voice is low, dangerous. I roll my eyes. "Obviously." "And do you know what they do?" I hesitate, narrowing my eyes at him. "What’s your point?" "The worst of them will make you wish you’d ended up with a rogue," he murmurs. "Creative sadistic fuckers, those ones." A chill runs down my spine, though I refuse to show it. I don’t know what it is in his tone—the certainty, the calmness—but it unsettles me.

It was easy to see after such cruel abuse of the homeless man that the abuser had a serious psychological defect. ‘This woman is very dangerous and abnormal. Her maximum sin value must be over 60!’ Jack thought.