Psychopath Manic Eyes Novels & Stories

Through the veil of my soot-streaked hair, I finally saw him up close. He was a terrifying masterpiece of Lycanthropic biology. Scars crisscrossed his chest, pale white against the drying gore of the Rogues he’d slaughtered. But it was his eyes that struck me. They were a violent, swirling crimson, burning with an obsessive, frantic intensity that bordered on madness. He wasn't just angry. He was desperate. He grabbed the man kneeling next to me—a frail, elderly scavenger—by the throat, lifting him off the ground with a sickeningly effortless motion. The man kicked weakly, his eyes rolling back as the oxygen was violently cut off.

Even Hana could smell the mint leaves from Rowan's mouth. "Wow, your eyes are really beautiful," He said excitedly, gently rubbing the knife in his hand around Hana's eyes, "I wonder, would that person be willing if I asked your eyeballs to be my collection?" Hana swallowed hard, it seemed that the person she was dealing with was not an ordinary man, but a psychopath hiding behind innocent face. She was even sure that no one would believe it if Hana said about Rowan's creepy side. Ah, suddenly Hana remembered Melisa. If only she knew that her idol turned out to be a psychopath!.

Sumbat ko rito saka hinawakan ang baril na nakatutok sa akin. "What are you waiting for? Go ahead, kill me," malumanay kong sabi na may halong pang-uuyam habang nakatitig parin ako ng diretso sa mga mata nito. "You cant?" Napangisi ako ng makita ko ang emotion na palagi kong nakikita sa kanya kapag bumabalik siya sa totoong ugali niya. He is Psychopath, bipolar and a demon.

One of the boys took a bucket full of ice and water and poured it over the unconscious man. The man gasped for air as Siya watched him. His eyes were dark, scary, and hard. The man’s eyes immediately widened at the sight of the man in front of him. “Well well well, if it isn't the psychotic rapist, we meet again.” Siya’s voice was venom. And with a straight face, his demeanor oozed power. “Snakes what's this fucker's name again?” One of his brothers, a man he was so close to after his elder brother.

At the jaw and the dark eyes and the specific, complete attention of someone who had been paying attention since the second library session and had never once stopped. “Yes?” he said. “Yes,” she said. He held her gaze. Something moved across his face. She didn’t have a word for it. She’d never seen it before. Something entirely new. Something that was all the other expressions simultaneously — the real smile, the open version, the patient certain look, the grief-and-gratitude look, all of them at once — and then something beyond all of them. Something that was only this. Only now. “Whatever comes after,” he said softly.

Amelia's P.O.V. “You?“ My heart battered against my ribcage as my eyes met those familiar blue eyes, just the same as Linda's but with a gaze of lustfulness and something else I can't decipher. These people are real psychopaths. They are both sick. They both suffer from severe mental health issues.

"Yes, her eyes color is Sapphire crystal, and she has this ferocious stare in her eyes. The nose is narrow and raised like she did some surgery on it. She has a heart face shape and her eyes are almond-shaped" She stopped talking and waited before speaking again. "I've not engaged the patient, but Mrs. Anderson thinks it is psychosis. " She listened and nodded at regular intervals. She looked up at Cora and mumbled some inaudible words, then replaced the receiver. Mrs. Anderson looked at her quizzically, Madison got the hint and spoke without mincing words.

Any one of these changes would have made him seem vicious to anyone else. But those weren't the traits that made him look like the devil to me. It was his eyes. Bright red rage had bled into his grey eyes, giving them an eerie purple colour that still shone with a hatred that could send a lesser man into madness. But I'm no lesser man. I haven't been since I was a teen. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Wincing, Darkous squinted one eye, the black liquid beginning to scorch and boil his eyes as it mixed with the other substances; the pain like nothing he had ever felt before. The psychopathic lord was suddenly plummeted into an unnatural darkness, his vision receding until nothing but black remained; his nervous mannerisms increasing. Was this supposed to happen? He snarled within his mind, growing impatient with his brothers alterations. Unable to see, Darkous listened carefully, locking onto his brothers noisy form as he placed the syringe back onto the small metal table beside him; a distinct clang echoing through the otherwise silent laboratory.

“He made Gibson cry yesterday. Sweet, fresh-faced, quick-to-laugh Gibson. That’s like kicking a puppy. Which is something Dane probably often did as a child—being mean to animals is textbook for psychopathic kids, you know.” I sighed again. “He’s not a psychopath.” “Come on, he even has that hunter stare they’re known for having. Look me in the eye and tell me it doesn’t make you want to squirm. The hairs on my nape stand up every time.” Yeah, I didn’t fare much better against it. There was always a dangerous glint in his dark, steely eyes. They could focus on you like a laser, pin you in place, and direct so much intensity at you that your personal space felt invaded.