Psychopath Roommate Novels & Stories

Chris appeared in the doorway then, like my thoughts had dragged him there. Yes, it's him-the Chris from my dreams. In my fantasy, I beg him to fuck me while screaming 'Daddy.’ But in reality, he's just my cold, distant iceberg of a roommate. Chris had a tall, lean build. He came in hoodie up. Earbuds in. Expression blank as a fresh install of Windows. He was a Computer science major. The guy I’d been stupidly in love with since the day he moved in. A very cold and aloof person. He was as tall as Ethan but had a leaner build

Well, I hadn't really tried to talk to anyone else, and from the way they all looked at me when she kept babbling about the private client, I very much doubted I'd be talking to anyone else anytime soon. “Mia Sinclair?” Another one of the boss’ henchmen. I gave him a gentle wave, and his stern eyes drifted in my direction. “You're up. Room 7. Don't be late.” That was all I got before he turned and left, leaving me in the company of Jane, my far from happy colleagues… and of course, my “work outfit.” I'd gotten used the skimpy things they shared every month or so as hypnotics to tempt our clients.

One day, when our other dormmates weren't around, she came over to me with a bottle of water. "Lydia, let's make up. Let's just wipe the slate clean and forget about the past. Look, I even brought you this bottle of water. Drink it," she said sweetly. I took it from her, noticing that the water had a slight yellow tint. I nodded. "Sure." Then, as she watched, I twisted the cap open and took a huge gulp. While she was distracted, I secretly spat all of it back out. Before long, the bottle was empty. At the same time, the way Quinn looked at me grew darker and more vicious.

I decided the best thing to do was play along. “You act like you’re the one writing the story,” I said, conversationally. “I would believe that, except you’re the one covered in blood. Usually, the guy in charge has others do his dirty work.” He grinned at me. “I like the dirty work,” he said, conversationally. “I’m a psychopath. Diagnosed and everything. I could take medication but giving in to the urges is a lot more fun.” “So, you’re in charge,” I said. “The brains and the brawn of the operation.”

And if I wasn’t terrified of them returning at any second and catching me. His room is nothing like other teenage boys’ rooms I’ve been in. It’s missing the musty dirty sock and sweat smell, but that’s probably just because they have maids. Even still, it’s meticulously neat. In a way that seems impossible even with hired help cleaning once or twice a day. I speculate on what this could mean. Is he a sociopath? OCD? Even his trashcan is spotless, only littered with one fresh apple core.

"Who's this?" The little red head dipped under his chin, and reached up to smack his arm with vengeance. It was cute, that she thought she was scary, and he simply waited for her to introduce him. Curious what she would say. "This is Jackson, he's our new roommate, Randy invited him." She said it simply, and Jackson felt oddly disappointed. Well, that was lame. He always liked a little spice. Leaning his elbows down over her chair, with arms cradled innocently on either side of her silky strands, he cooed. "Don't let the princess fool you, I'm also her very, very, best friend. Why, we're almost inseparable now."

Letting myself fall back into his bed like it meant something. But then I smiled softly. Controlled. Safe. “I can’t,” I said, adjusting the strap of my duffel bag on my shoulder. “I need to check on my roommate. She’s one moment from dying of boredom. Probably already talking to plants and naming them after her exes.” Bruce’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes flickered. Not anger. Not hurt. Something else. Possession, maybe. Or suspicion. “Roommate,” he repeated. I shrugged. “She’s dramatic. And she’s been alone in the apartment for three days. I’d rather not come home to glitter bombs and empty tequila bottles.”

I know how to handle them. 'Why you think so?' I almost whispered without looking in this direction. 'Cause if I were you I wouldn't have ever entered this dark room.' He replied. 'Why..... this room is so dark?' I asked for being a bit hesitant, cause after all he was a psychopath. 'Hmm, you are trying to act familiar now. Like others?' He said and shifted a bit more towards me. Now I could hear him breathing again, 'You. Are. Really. A dumb.' he said and I felt so triggered.

No matter how handsome a stranger is, you don’t trust them. “How I wish—if I am a psychopath, I would be smarter than that.“ He smugly smirked at me and crossed his arms. “This whole thing isn’t actually my idea. My friend, who probably knows your friend that told you this place is up for a renter said I could probably use a roomie. I was looking for one back then but no one would approach, they probably think it’s a fraud or some bullshit like that. Just like exactly how you thought.”

"The little one ran away from every cage there and since I've always wanted to have my own pet, I just put him here." From Taid's warehouse? So the beast didn't belong to Reese at all. But no longer Taid either, but Nick. Unfortunately, that fact didn't really make it any better. The little brother grinned and closed the box again. "Cool, isn't it?" "Cool ?!" I asked stunned and could only stare at him in disbelief. “What's cool about keeping a little psychopath as a roommate who can poison you at any time? You should shoot the cattle, not feed them too. That's not cool, that's just stupid! "