Novel Psychopath Novels & Stories

“I think you’re a psychopath.” “Oh, Demian. You’ve said that so many times. It doesn’t bother me to be one. The word doesn’t offend me. Did you know that psychopaths usually don’t have compassion? I’ve been too compassionate with you. I’ve even been compassionate with Dana, Jeremy, and even Thomas. By the way, my second victim will be Thomas for getting in my way. The last will be Dana and you. But I won’t kill you until you see her die. That way, you’ll understand how I feel inside because of your decision to choose her. This is a consequence of your decision. Do you know how much I would like you to do the same for me? I would love for you to be capable of doing everything I did to be with

“You see, Naina… everything started when someone came up with a genius plan. A plan so beautiful, so intricate… and that someone? They are the real evil.” She stepped closer, her voice lowering to a whisper as her words curled around me like poison. “Have you ever heard the word psychopath ? Do you know their traits? I bet you don’t.” Here we go again. Her cryptic nonsense. Her evasive dance around truth. But something about her tone was different this time. A little less taunting. A little more… unhinged. Then suddenly, something sparked in my mind. “The disc.” The words left my lips before I could stop them, and the moment I said it, I saw it, her expression shift.

I raise my shoulders and let them fall, “Perhaps you go ask him as soon as he’s done cleaning the blood in his hands. Let’s hope he doesn’t have to re-clean because of your blood.” “Then why hasn’t he killed you?” she asks, swallowing hard. “Duh! Because he thinks it’d be more fun if he kills me when I begin to believe the absurdity that he wouldn’t,” I retort, pressing my lips together. Jane looks at me in disbelief, “Why do you think this way?” “I’m thinking in the perspective of a psychopath,” I say truthfully. I once read in a book that psychos think very differently. “A-Jun is no psychopath,” Jane argues, and I hiss.

Social media moved on as if the requests had never been made. All of them gone because of her. Because she had stayed. Because she had been seen wanting something outside the perimeter. Because the life Kai had built around her required absolute silence and absolute possession. He was a psychopath of the most precise kind—charming in public, meticulous in private, and utterly without the ordinary human brakes that stopped other men. His cleaners were better than most governments. The internet forgot because he made it forget. Elara remembered every name, every method, every picture he had forced her to look at.

“So instead of really living, instead of doing what makes you feel alive, you chose to work a 9-to-5 job for The Man. You chose stability and the 401k. You chose mediocrity.” You DICK. I sit up and full-on bare my teeth at him. “What, and you’re so fucking brilliant? You’re so fucking incredible? If you forgot, your criminal activities are what put us on the run.” “No, a psychopath is what put us on the run.” “Who you ran into because you like to play art thief!” “And saved two women’s lives and stopped a serial killer’s rampage!” he snarls. “Remember that?” I do. It’s what I’d told Connor to get him to help us.

Because I’m most certainly the last person on earth she could ever fall for. On one hand she despises my very soul after everything I’ve just put her through; and I have a feeling that I will keep screwing with her because I know myself too damn much, and on the other hand I’m not the kind of man that a girl like her should ever think about falling in love with. Because I will only end up breaking her heart and hurting her more than anyone else in this world. It’s just who I am. And no matter how much I claim I can change, one thing remains. I’m still a psychopath and that is a characteristic I can never get rid of.

at least not in a city, well maybe in a village, in Texas. Hmm, how psychopath looks? I heard that they look like normal people, maybe one of those quiet persons... You know, those men with glasses and a kind smile, who are slim, and not physically strong, and you never would say that this person could do any harm, even for a fly. But this old man, well he doesn't look like he couldn't do any harm, no...he has something evil, he doesn't smile a lot too. He doesn't have that kindly creepy smile like with it he would try to tell: 'don't be afraid go with me, I will give you a candy if you will...

“You don't understand how obsessed I am with you, Sophie,” “It's your fault for being too perfect,” Now between that psychopath and Lucas, who was the bigger psychopath?

“You confessed to plotting double murders.” “It was just one.” He dropped his hands dramatically, tilting his head. “Are we gonna debate on that?” “Fine,” I sighed. “Whatever.” “Guess who’s getting another cell all to himself?” he said, tapping his knuckles against the mattress. “You?” I refused to show the shock on my face as I asked. It’s expected that psychopaths like me should be isolated from the sane people. “I don’t know, man. Could be me, us — depending on how you behave.”