Novel Psychopath Novels & Stories

It was soft, full and I really liked holding onto it whenever he was fucking me. “I was diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder when I was a teenager. I'm a psychopath. I deal with PTSD. So I was very aggressive and violent when I was growing up. Any slight provocation could lead to my killing someone. I beat up people at school and killed people who annoyed me. It started with me killing animals. I killed mom’s cat.” He let out a small laugh. His eyes were still closed.

Her body moved in slow pace as she swayed her head, each hair dangled back to position as her hand caught them, explain the long neck. "Andre?" she called out again. I smiled this time, there is no harm in smiling, is there? "Who are you?" Uhm, I'm a psychopath who killed his co-worker and kidnapped his best friend when she caught him trying to dispose of the body which by the way is in the trunk of the car. Plus I was accused of killing my ex-girlfriend, not that I know if I did it or not because I know my alibi is wrong but still, I walk freely and yeah one more thing, you should run if you don't want me killing you.

However from what she understood, this criminal exhibited psychopathic tendencies and thus he wouldn’t understand from her point of view, rather, he would understand it if it benefitted him or not and knowing his preferences, she used them for her escape. He clenched and unclenched his hand, Anissa noticed it. His jaw ticked and in a flash he was on his feet and rounded the table towards Anissa. He clenched the side arms of her chair and bent down until his face was leveled with hers. Her heart accelerated as she stared into those soulless grey depths.

He had seen me cry so much in the past few days, I can't let it happen again. “He is simply psychopathic.” “What did you say?’’

My new patient, My new headache, My new… whatever impossible, forbidden thing he’s trying to become in my mind. He hasn’t left my thoughts since Session One. Which is wrong professionally, ethically, clinically but yet, no matter how many times I repeat those words to myself, my chest still tightens at the sound of his name. Everything about this man feels like a contradiction carved into a human body. He’s dangerous, he’s violent, he displays traits of psychopathy, emotional detachment, lack of remorse, dominance drive, manipulative charm. Let’s not even talk about his family history and what part of the world he comes from no matter how they try to appear clean. Everybody in town knows the

“Tell me about the man who killed Catherine Thompson.” The shift was subtle, but it was enough. I forced myself to push Bobby out of my mind and focus instead on the crime itself, on Catherine, on the details that had kept me awake night after night. “You’re dealing with a sexual psychopath,” I began, my voice sounding unfamiliar even to me. “Her murder was a manifestation of corrupt lust.” “There were no signs of sexual assault.”

“As if the world doesn’t already have enough suffering, those two clowns wanted to mass- produce fentanyl and distribute it across the city.” I inhale sharply. “That’s insane.” “Not just insane, but needlessly cruel. The two of them checked off all three boxes for the Dark Triad – narcissism, psychopathy, and Machiavellianism. You get a lot of psychopathy in the Bratva, a bit of narcissism, but rarely all three at once. Yes, Vanya and Feliks are real pieces of work, but once I found out their little plan to separate from our Family, I made quick work of Feliks. Vanya fled the state, and I thought that might be the end of it.”

“Then let me help. I’m not asking for a gun or a plan. I’m asking to understand.” He stared at me, then nodded. “You need to know what we’re facing,” he said. “Viktor’s not just a rival. He’s a psychopath. Charming, intelligent, patient. He doesn’t attack with force. He poisons. Corrupts. Undermines. He’ll try to get in your head before he ever pulls a trigger.” “Too late,” I muttered. “He’s already in there.” He smirked, but it was dark. “Then it’s time I got him out.”

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.'

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.