Like A Damn Sociopath Novels & Stories

“Tell him to see me at my office tomorrow morning. I don’t know what I might do if I see him tonight—I just might change my mind and punch the fucker in the throat.” “I know, right? Just looking at his face puts me in a bad mood. Coming here, demanding to see you like he’s your boss or something. Should I just slit his throat instead?” Daniel’s voice dripped with annoyance. I chuckled. “No, don’t do that. That would be too easy of a finish for him.” I leaned back on the couch, sipping my whiskey. Daniel was a retired sociopath, plain and simple. The kind of man every mother warned their sons and daughters to stay away from. Not just bad—dangerous. But I was the only one who knew that because

—For someone who stayed up all night partying, she doesn't look drunk at all, 'she's careful with her image. Nat can seem cool, she can treat you well, but 'there's always a but, huh,' if you mess with something important to her, the nice girl disappears. In other words, she's a psychopath. We are all differently the same anyway, why do I say that? It's easy: every family member on my mother's side is like that. There are also some sociopaths. Not everyone enjoys hurting people, they don't like it, they know how to handle it, but I don't. When someone demands "perfection" from me, torture or killing is my stress relief, better than cocaine, I'd say.

“I won’t hurt you either.” “But you will abuse me mentally?” I asked. “No.” He paused. “But I don’t feel.” “Feel what?” "Emotions for lack of words." I tried to understand what he meant. “You don’t feel emotions?” “Haven’t since I was a child.” He paused. “Not like people usually do, It’s just difficult to explain.” A sociopath, that was what people like him were called. “I recognize them and I can simulate them in a satisfying manner if I want, but I don’t feel them.”

There's no way I'm ever leaving with him again while he's angry. “I’m sick in the head, Keila,” Sebastian claims. It's the kind of tone that doesn't hold a single hint of disguise. A voice of despair. A voice of agony. It's not the same tone I used to hear every time he promises not to hurt me again, but a sincere despair. “I’m mentally unstable. Crazy…insane…demented. I'm sick in the head, Keila. I'm clinically diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder. My whole family knows that, including Jordan. A sociopath you might want to call.”

“ Just for you information , I do not enjoy being attacked . The only reason I enjoy such dangerous situations is because I have new targets to torture for my amusement . “ said Damian with a dangerous look in his face . “ You enjoy torturing people ? “ said Antonio stunned . “ There’s a reason why I am called a devil , my innocent Antonio . I only enjoy torturing my enemies but lately they have reduced a lot and I wasn’t able to have any fun . “ said Damian a bit disappointed . ‘ …..No matter how I look at it…..enjoy torturing people…..he is a total……A total psychopath devil . ‘ thought Antonio . “ No need to be scared Antonio . I am not a psychopath . I just give them back what I receive f

“You’re sick. This whole time you were just full of shit, and it was all about him? You used me.” Damien smiled, unfazed. The patient, caring guy who had listened to my doubts was gone. In his place stood someone calculating and dangerous. “Don’t be dramatic. You think I didn’t figure that you didn’t like me? You just used me for my money and the nice dates. The person who’s really full of shit is you.” I shoved his chest hard. “You’re an actual psychopath. I’m going to expose you. The school will-” He laughed. A low, genuine sound that sent ice down my spine. His hand raised only to press against the wall beside my head, caging me.

“And I wonder how he’ll do that.” Damien grabbed an extra drink sitting at the end of the table. “With a normal person, I’d say he’d threaten us. But with this psychopath, he’ll probably throw you a parade or some shit. Fucking weirdo. I would assume he’s gay for you except for the fact…” He looked away, clearly embarrassed by what he’d just said. “Never mind.” He’d shoved his foot in his mouth, but I let it go. “You’re probably right. He’ll call me.”

“I think you’re a psychopath.” He smirks, presses the barrel harder. “I prefer the term sociopath,” he drawls. He pulls the trigger. Click.

I eye him. "Look who's talking" he chuckles. "But don't worry, I've talked to her and she understood" he really. "I don't think they'll be trying anything. They don't get along" he sigh. I don't know about Damien, that guy is a sex freak, probably fucking a bitch in an empty class. Honestly, even I don't have high libido like he does. The guy is a man slut. "I don't think he'll be able to control himself" I chuckled. He could, that's one thing about Damien....he can control himself but he just wants to have fun. What an asshole.

Crap. Her quiet, mousy assistant slapped her across the face. “Liar! You think I don’t know what you are?” She resisted the reflex to press her palm to her burning cheek. The slap felt and sounded odd, not quite skin-on-skin. She stared at Mandy’s hand and frowned. Her assistant wore thin latex gloves. Nausea swirled as she digested the significance of that information. No fingerprints. “W-what am I?” “You’re a sociopath. You have no concern for the effects of your behavior on others. People are nothing but tools to you, and if they can’t help you further your own agenda, then you don’t even see them. Knowing that made everything easy for me.”