Psychopath Manic Eyes Novels & Stories

The sight worsened the pain in my body and head and I struggled against the chains that held me securely in place. “Get your filthy hands off her. Let her go! She’s only a child. Get your hands off her!” I screamed at him but his smirk only widened. “Careful momma, you don’t want your screams to wake up the sleeping beauty too soon do you? Because then I get to play with her and you get to watch, but I’ll really love to have a conversation with you before we get to the good part.” He said calmly. This man was a psychopath. How couldn’t he understand that he was doing something wrong? He looked as calm as they came and he only just continued to stroke Jessy’s blonde hair that was rested again

I needed to shut my eyes and calm myself or I will explode out of nervousness. His dark emerald eyes told me that he was up to no good. This man is like them. No, all three of them are rooted in the same kind of monster. They are all vicious and cunning man who only wants to reign the world. Based on his physical aspect, he can manhandle me in just one snap. His muscles are in place and his body is ripped, too ripped to not notice.

It would have been special. Now, I was just a piece of meat for this crazy psychopath to grab. He wasn't done yet, he met my stare, his eyes simmering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "And if I find out that you are lying to me.....I will kill you" He meant those words. His frosty eyes told me he did. *

There's something wrong with his brain. "You..are mad." "I've already told you many times, I'm not mad." He dropped the weapon on the floor and looked at me with the deadliest eyes and bloodlust. "I'm just a psycho."

She had woken up to being chained to a table littered with broken glass. The white hot pain she had felt then had faded into nothingness. She sensed him near her even before her eyes registered his presence beside the torture table. She held his eyes. Gone was the handsome man she had met that morning. Looking at him now, all she saw was a psychopath. The sinister look in his eyes did nothing but spice up the wave of cruelty oozing from him. His lips was turned down in a frown. "You're not crying or screaming." He said it as though it perplexed him.

“I’m sorry… just don’t like when people lie to my face—even if it’s in silence.” She nodded but still steered clear of me. “Then I’ll suggest you stop smiling.” I stared at her, hard. She tossed her hair. “I don’t know if you’re aware of the fact that your eyes do not reflect emotion like normal people’s. You have dead man’s eyes, which means that when you smile, it’s even scarier.” I said nothing—just watched the numbers climb up. She cleared her throat. “I’m not scared of you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Actually, I have a friend like that. She goes haywire when you lie to her face.”

Five empty wooden chairs pushed tight against the huge round table bespoke of the losses he had recently suffered. The Necromancer was a large man—if indeed the misshapen figure could be called a man—significantly bigger than any of his comrades, in girth even more so than height. He possessed a huge bulbous belly, and his hairless head was almost as round as a basketball. In the dimness of the room, the skin of his face and hands seemed almost white—a milky, deathly white more reminiscent of a corpse than a living human being. He had thick purplish lips, a broad, flat nose, and no eyebrows at all. As fearsome as the rest of his countenance was, his most frightening feature by far was his ey

, His brows shot up, his forehead and his smile flashed his teeth but his eyes didn't reflect a wholesome joy you might see in someone acting as he was. "And luckily for me l have a powerful ally. Magic is really wonderful and l need yours too", A lopsided grin spread over his face and there was a twinkle of joy in his eyes that caused a shiver of fear to race up my spine. His eyes held something dark... Held something wrong. "You really a sick psycho", l hissed out but l felt hurt when I moved my neck. Whatever he injected into my neck, weighed down like a stone under water. "Call me whatever you want", He moved until he was nearly right up against the bars and squared down to sneer in my f

I just stare at him as he tosses backward into one of the garbage cans. I glanced up at my redeemer; there he was, the man who was clouding my thoughts. I was hypnotized by his bright chocolatey eyes with a hint of gold dancing in his iris, which chilled me to the bones. I swear I saw wrath in those eyes, which looked just like those of a monster out to destroy everything in his path.

Light burst through the dark, blinding my eyes as flashes of my mother staring into Deimos’ eyes flooded in, her memories bleeding into mine — standing like a shield between him and me. ‘He is your enemy. The one you need to — have to — end.’ Her bitterness, her hatred and her wrath overwhelmed me. My fists clenched, my jaw locked, and my body trembled, not with fear, but with pure, consuming rage. Symptoms of the Madness affliction: heavy, lifeless eyes ringed with chronic bruise-like dark circles. Normally, I would have cowered beneath such a sublime presence, but holding his gaze, I glared right into his eyes.