Psychopath Smirk Novels & Stories

I told him a little less sternly but stern enough to get my point across. He looked at me with shock at first but then his face broke into an understanding smile, "Oh my God, our evil sociopath has fallen in love with the poor thing," he gaped at me with a psychotic smile. Fuck! Was I that obvious? I thought to myself in my mind.

One plate of meal that he cooked himself wasn't going to change the fact that he was a horrible person and that I hated him. So, why was I pleased with him laughing? I shouldn't care. Besides, a laughing Zayne was equally as dangerous. I could totally picture myself getting sucked in by that smile. You could tell it never happened when you heard his laughter or saw it. You're so in awe and you reach out wanting to keep the smile on or to hold on to it in any way possible and before you realized it, you've been sucked in and captured all over again. Who knew? His laughter might just be another trick. He was a psychopath afterall. They were great at faking all the emotions they didn't possess.

James Voss. My smirk widened. Fucking bastard.

His deep, velvety voice sent chills through my body, as did his look of disapproval. My hands shook slightly, my throat went dry. "I, uhm." My voice cracked on the last syllable. He raised an eyebrow at me in question. The expression on his face was blank, there wasn't any emotion in his eyes, they were hard, cold, empty. His lips curled into a smirk , he seemed to be enjoying watching me squirm like an antelope caught in a trap. I could tell when he got bored, "Tell me," he said, a little impatiently.

Cow-lick hair no longer laughs, but cradles his arm. I get up completely and open my mouth in a grotesque grimace. "Are you laughing at me, Fluffy ?" I snort and bare my teeth. I stand still and assess the opponent. The blow has made me come so much back in control, that I am no longer blinded by rage. I am in control again and can change if need be. But I don’t dare to do so as long as the psychopath stands before me. Who is he ? What is he ?

“Then I can conclusively infer that you’re the culprit in murder of Albert Connor-Mckinney, Max, Mary Adele White and sheriff Morgan.” A look of dissatisfaction began to appear on his face. Before we entered the interrogation room, agent Tom advised me. “Psychopaths all like to take credit for what they did. You have to make him believe he didn’t do much. By so doing, he will admit to other crimes he has committed.” Remembering that, I smiled. “Now that I think of it, you didn’t do much,” I mocked. Smith’s POV “Is he trying to get on my nerves or is he really serious?” I thought. How can he say that I didn’t do enough.

picking up a cigarette from his breast pocket he pulled it out for the other guy to light and he did stepping back again. He steadied his gaze on me for a while without saying any word. I looked at each of their faces searchingly and then removed my eyes. Suddenly he began to laugh widely clapping his hands. This man was really a psychopath, I thought looking down at my feet.

Under all that charm and charisma lies a monster, a true psychopath, and a killer. Klaus’s eyes met mine, a sickening smirk playing on his lips. His eyes held a glint of madness, a twisted pleasure that churned my stomach. It was a look I recognized all too well—a desire to dominate, to inflict pain. He held a short dagger in his hand, pointing it at my sons. He was enjoying this game he was playing with us far too much. He saw me, and his smirk widened. He spoke, his voice mocking and taunting.

Lucian leaned closer, staring straight into her bulging eyes, and then. A smile bloomed on his lips. It wasn't a human smile. No! It wasn't a normal smile. It was twisted... Empty... Psychopathic. So disturbing that everyone instinctively took a step back.

My body shuddered in the cold as I lifted my head to see the psycho's evil smirk staring back at me. "Morning, morning,” he chimed, clapping his hands together as he sat down in front of me, his cigarettes in hand. I glared at him fiercely, but he just shrugged it off, unfazed. “It's a good morning, a good day to remind you that you have only three hours left to breathe,” he mocked, lighting up his cigarette and puffing out the smoke with a smug smile. "I glared at him, scrunching up my face in distaste as the smoke wafted into my nose. I looked away, my expression twisted in disgust.