Psychopath A Novel Novels & Stories

Immediately, the child psychopath denied it and said he did not know what it was about, creating a sad tone, when the father believed it or a relative of an intern, who believed that, however, other misfortunes would happen. Following that in the following year, in which a stepmother of the boy who was one of his victims and guinea pigs who died in the autopsy, it was found that she had been poisoned, in which unlike the previous episode, the little psychopath had no way to escape, not believing the lies, the father sent the boy to a psychiatric hospital, which diagnosed him with personality disorder and schizophrenia. So, even inside the hospital, the criminal continued with his experiments

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.

“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.

Aron wasn't just going to walk away from her that easily. A/N: Hey thank you for reading Book One and journeying with me. This is the End of Book One. Update: Book Two is up. F******k: taniashava I*******m: tanz.v

He looked me over, his eyes lingering on my now half-exposed breasts. "Don't worry though, if you end up bleeding to death, I'll just throw your body into the sea. Of course, after I fuck your perfect gorgeous body." I winced at the crudeness of his words. He really was a psychopath. Who talked about raping a dead body like it was a recipe they were discussing? "You're sick in the head," I spat, and the man just grinned. "You're not the first one to tell me that, sweetness. I've always been sick in the head. Tell me something new," he shrugged nonchalantly.

One single night, and he’d already turned his quarters into a slaughterhouse. “You know,” he said, finally sitting up, a weird smile curling his lips, “I wanted to give you a surprise this morning. And I’m glad you’re surprised.” This guy was a psychopath. Why hadn’t I clocked it before? The arrogance, the cruelty, the casual violence—I’d read them as entitlement, as the spoiled behavior of a rich brat who’d never faced consequences. But this was something else. This was a lack of something fundamental, a hole where empathy should have been.

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.

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.

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?"