Psychopath A Novel Novels & Stories

Once Gunsyn is gone, I sit alone in the concrete cell for what feels like hours – maybe even years—trying to find a way to be okay with what just happened. Or at least understand it. But what’s to understand? Gunsyn is a Russian mobster. A psychopath who’s used to getting what he wants by whatever means necessary. And for some insane reason, right now he wants me. Or else he would have killed me, right? He had the knife. Why not just slide it between my ribs after he fucked me or slit my throat like he warned back in his car? Why keep me alive now? Just to torture me? To punish me?

The estate gates disappear behind us as we merge onto the highway. "Have you ever heard of psychopaths?" His voice is low, dangerous. I roll my eyes. "Obviously." "And do you know what they do?" I hesitate, narrowing my eyes at him. "What’s your point?" "The worst of them will make you wish you’d ended up with a rogue," he murmurs. "Creative sadistic fuckers, those ones." A chill runs down my spine, though I refuse to show it. I don’t know what it is in his tone—the certainty, the calmness—but it unsettles me.

“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.

The jolt sends a shot of excruciating pain through my leg, and I growl, irritated that I can fight these sickos off. Would they kill me? I wouldn’t put anything past the students of this nuthouse. This place should be illegal, but cops are as corrupt as the criminals like all authorities in this world. Money is the root of all evil, and if you have enough, it doesn’t matter what heinous crimes you commit. It will all disappear if you have money. The girl grins down at me, moving the knife toward my other leg. She holds my gaze, enjoying the fear that radiates from me.

Except for one. One case that continued to haunt me. Why was I thinking about it today? I’d put a murderer back out on the street. And it was my belief he’d killed again, even though it was something I couldn’tprove, especially since he’d fled town. To this day, anytime I heard the man’s name, I had nightmares. He’d done his best to psychoanalyze me, which in turn had put me off my game. But I’d learned how to deal with psychopaths and sociopaths after that, taking various courses to ensure no one could ever get under my skin again. As I glanced at my watch again, I grew angrier at the way the case was being handled. Something was off and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. One frea

I frowned, confused at his words "What favor?" "Yesterday, you told me about that book you read," he said lazily. "Some fairytale about love and romance. It got me thinking, why not introduce you to real instead of clouding your head in such fairytale lies about love and romance. " "And you think taking to a crime scene is showing me reality of life? What kind of psychopath—” I breathed, completely in awe. He sighed dramatically, finally putting his phone away for a moment. "Would you rather go somewhere else?"

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

“The boss have ordered that no food or water should be giving to you until he comes back.” Their response was cold. They were complaining about how I was a thorn in their flesh. The light piercing my skin was becoming more intense. I sensed it was already afternoon. The spring rain has stopped, it is early summer. My whole body was burning and itchy. I don’t know how to escape, taking unnecessary actions might get me killed. I was furtive at first. I made a mistake. I remembered that Smith was diagnosed with psychopathy when we were younger. He had killed countless puppies. By then, my uncle was worried and had him checked out.

I always have to spoil the fun. “That can wait. I have more pressing matters to deal with right now.” My dad narrowed his eyes and waited patiently as I said, “I need your help. It seems like I'm seeing things. The series of events began after I met with a patient in Our Lady of Piety's psychiatric hospital. He is a killer and a very scary one. The interview allowed me to determine the pathologies. In addition to schizophrenia, he suffers from neurotic episodes. But that is all. The strange thing is that he was speaking as if he was from another planet.”

I have nothing to offer her, but the new gift of my presence. I grab just edibles and return home. It's going to be a hard time for me and I don't blame Helen for how she's treating me. It must have been a hard time for her too. She was forced to get used to so many things about me she didn't know before, like she didn't know in all my rage that I could murder. I didn't know this too. To get busy I rearrange the setting of sofas in the sitting room, then I sit reading a book written by Helen which I have read before.