Interviewing Psychopath Novels & Stories

Max shut off the recorder and put it in the pocket of his shirt. “What?” He asked. He seemed shocked someone would ever talk about to him. He had looked at Max like he was less than a speck of dirt throughout the entire interview. Now he was shocked that Max had the nerve to speak to someone like him that way. “Sir, I told you I am not in this to have any other outcome than to get your daughters murderer in jail where they belong. As you have not provided me any information to help me, I am still at square one. That means I will dig through her life and question everything that I find. Something led her to be in a place she clearly didn’t belong in, and I will find the reason.” Max said as h

I opened Bobby’s file. “When you’re finished, if you still want to talk, I’ll be across the road having a drink. I can’t discuss any specific patient or case.” I tapped the folder for emphasis. “I can only speak in general terms, about personality disorders, about how psychotics and psychopaths function. It will be much easier if you remember that.” Ruiz pressed his palms together as if in prayer, tapping his forefingers against his lips. “I don’t like playing games.” “This isn’t a game,” I replied. “We do it this way, or I can’t help you.”

Mom took a deep breath, her brows tightly furrowed. After a long pause, she continued, “When I mentioned the killer might have psychological issues, there should’ve been visible signs in daily life. It's likely he has a small build and is short-tempered. We should focus our investigation on people the victim knew who fit this profile.” Clement Geis truly was a psychopath, a devil in human skin. After Wendy lured me away, he drugged me and took me to an abandoned construction site. There, he subjected me to inhuman torment. He kept asking why I refused his confession.

He remarked and laughed so hard. "Why are you killing psychopaths?" I asked him and crossed my arms while leaning at the wall. "Well, that's none of your business. We're both psychopaths, so you must have an idea why am I doing such things." "You probably want to know if there are psychopaths who are different from you. Psychopaths who can feel emotions. You torture them to see if they feel emotions and end up killing them. Am I right?" He nodded at me. "If that's what you want, you won't get anything from me," I said and aimed to open the door, but he blocked my way.

I asked, shoving my hands in my pocket. "A week like you said,* Tim answered, his expression somber. "We still haven't found anyone?" "It's usually like that. Whoever it is will boy be trying to come forward just yet. It's them being cautious," I nodded. Fuck, this was slow but he was doing a good job. After another five interviews, I went to Lily who was anything but merciful in her questioning. Hell, I could barely keep up. She was almost torturing them with all the mental traps she laidsubtle insinuations, hypothetical scenarios, and twisted versions of their own stories. I had to admit, Lily was brilliant. And a little terrifying.

“Whoever gave you the idea you’re smart was an idiot.” “Unfortunately, a 4.5 GPA at Oxford is a better judge.” “I could sit for a forensic psychology exam and pass it without reading.” “And how do you know what I studied?” “I ran a background check on you.” I’m intrigued. “Really? How fascinating. When did you do that? What else did it tell you?” “That your mouth sure as hell can put you in a lot of trouble.” “You mean how I suck?” I asked. “Or talk?” I caught the look on his face before it disappeared. He's honestly wondering why I won't shut up but forensic psychology teaches how failures in impulse control, rather than long-term planning often drive sudden criminal acts.

" Crazy? I'm....I'm sure this must be some misunderstanding, sir." "It was my fault, Patrick. My fault. I shouldn't have given you the authority." He said completely ignoring Patrick. "But she was the best among the fifty candidates that we interviewed." Patrick protested. "Intelligence and sanity are not the same thing, Patrick.” He let out a sigh of frustration. "But I guess nothing can be done now. I want her to take a Psych eval and if she passes, she can work with us, if she fails which I'm sure she will.” He said looking at Anya whose face had reddened with anger. "I'm sure we can find her a place somewhere more appropriate.” He said walking closer towards Anya. “Like an asylum maybe.”

He said grinning and then added, "Sometimes. A psychopath can be a loyal husband and a lover, a good father and everything that you dream about. Just don't peek into their basement." "Guess you forgot to add that they are also pathological liars and lack empathy." I watched his jaw tighten and his dark chocolate brown eyes staring at me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking from his expressions but I sure as hell knew I'd said the right thing to tick him off. And why exactly was I finding pleasure by stepping on his foot? Just when I thought things had taken the wrong turn, his expressions mellowed. I decided to tease him further. "So which type of psychopath are you? Hannibal Lecter or Patr

I'm currently on my third shot when a hand pats my shoulder roughly, spilling some of my drink. "Getting into trouble tonight Pres?" Psych asks taking his own seat at the bar. I shake my head at him and continue to take my shot. Psych is a lot to take in at once. We brought him on pretty quick after we had so many members leave. His name speaks for itself when you listen to him talk. "Me myself, I'm looking for a little bunny rabbit looking to get plucked." He says confusing the hell out of me. "What?" I say wondering, not the for the first time, what the hell he is talking about.

I narrowed my eyes at him and he sighed, his jaw ticking dangerously. “Because I asked.” He gritted, tilting his head to offer me a fake smile. I could tell he was getting pissed off by the redness crawling up his neck and the vein that appeared suddenly on his temple. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to anger a psychopath, but I had to unnerve him if I wanted information. “I’ll only answer your questions if you answer mine.” I bargain and his face cleared slightly. “Like twenty questions?” he chirped.