Novel Psychopath Novels & Stories

I blushed, shook my head, and cleared my throat. “I mean, I’ve been planning to give you since you solved the assignment. The book is very important, it costs the owner’s life.” “What?” he asked in surprise. He’s too young to know the story of the book. The book isn’t popular because it’s the author’s first book. He was a psychologist and also labelled a psychopath. What he wrote in the book was facts about human nature, how to read people and how to make them respect you at all costs as their boss.

In addition, their behaviours often become violent when under pressure due to stress, so we know that, eventually, there will be a serious psychological breakdown. “Psychopaths are basically a person's worst nightmare. When someone is capable of killing and eating the hearts of innocent people, the first thing to do is to find the perpetrator, and punish him or her before they do harm to anyone else. "If the victim does not have money, if the offender is in prison, there is nothing to prevent the culprit from getting away unscathed with the lives of innocent victims. It does not matter whether the person is mentally sound or not. It still matters how bad the person is to cause suffering and

I decided the best thing to do was play along. “You act like you’re the one writing the story,” I said, conversationally. “I would believe that, except you’re the one covered in blood. Usually, the guy in charge has others do his dirty work.” He grinned at me. “I like the dirty work,” he said, conversationally. “I’m a psychopath. Diagnosed and everything. I could take medication but giving in to the urges is a lot more fun.” “So, you’re in charge,” I said. “The brains and the brawn of the operation.”

“One life or one death? No questions asked? That’s the most dangerous—you could use that—oh my fucking gods, Jack, the blackmail and coercion potential alone. How the fuck is your family not ruling the whole goddamn world by now?” “Because we’re not psychopaths!” he shouted back. “Because it can only be used once by each generation, and there’s always some personal reason to use it! And mostly,” and he yanked my hands away from his chest, probably because my fingers had torn all the way through his shirt and started digging into his skin, “because we’re not fucking psychopaths!” “Speak for yourself,” I snarled. “Because apparently you mated a fucking psychopath. And now he’s been—”

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.

" Clarked was puzzled as Rachel pulled him to sit with her in the sitting room. She showed him Christy's page and every single post she posted about him. The comments and number of likes. The way she showed obsession, her unhealthy way of liking and commenting on his photos, and her neutral posts about his life and businesses. How she was following all his employed heads of different departments of his company and how she followed his company's main social media page. Christy was a sociopath. " We need to inform the police about her, I feel unsafe." " NO, NO.... I am going to have a word with her tomorrow. If she continues then we will involve the police.". Rachel bawled Rachel told a blatan

“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.

"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

The sun was starting to burn brighter, but after weeks of being locked up inside without it, I wanted nothing more than to feel it seep into every pore in my body. But I couldn't help but feel discomfort even as I tried to enjoy my freedom. The cut burned, and it hindered me from moving the way I wanted when I wanted to. It was probably going to scar. The bastard had cut into my flesh when he could have just tattooed his name onto my skin like a normal person, except, Nicolai wasn't normal. He was a psychopath. A psychopath that I was starting to see in a different light... A psychopath who set my heart on fire.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you. An obsessive person isn’t as bad as a psychopath.” “Huh?” Sydney was confused. Finn grinned. “Nothing.” He was born without empathy or fear, so he was called a monster and a psychopath. He was indeed a psychopath and he knew it. He had an unhealthy bloodthirst and life meant nothing to him. He could do terrible things just to achieve his goal.