Psychopath Stalking Novels & Stories

He quirks an eyebrow at me, “How do you figure that?” “I’ve seen it before. Among humans, stalking isn’t a crime in most places, or not an offence taken seriously. Someone goes around terrorising someone, that someone goes to the police and the police say, ‘We can’t do anything unless they hurt you’. Next thing you know that person winds up dead. It just sounds very much the same. You have someone who has been terrorising you for years, and you know in your gut they are responsible for the shit around you, but unless they actually hurt you, you can’t do anything,” I point out. He frowns, deep creases forming along his handsome brow, “I guess we have more in common with humans than I thought.

Yeah, I'm fucked up. ..... By the time I leave Raegan's house, it is once again dark, and it is raining, of course. I haven't spoken to Trig all fucking day, but I've been keeping an eye on my little bird, as I always fucking do. I can watch her on the live feed that streams to my fucking phone when I'm not near our apartment. She has no idea there are fucking cameras hidden throughout her apartment, but I do. Even though she isn't at home right now, I know exactly where she is. I haven't seen her yet, but I know she's been working for Stacks at Wicked Desires, one of the state's most exclusive gentlemen's playgrounds. It's not just a fucking strip joint and bar, but it's also a hotbed of il

"Every time I set something up, something would go wrong. Like someone was deliberately sabotaging my attempts. It frustrated me to no end." "The other stalker was protecting me." The realization settled over me like ice water. "They were watching you watch me. And they did not want you to succeed." "Which means they want you for themselves." Akon's voice was dark. "Whoever this person is, they are possessive of you." I felt sick. All this time, I had two people stalking me. One I now knew was Seraphina, trying to assess me for the pack. The other was still unknown, still hidden, still watching.

They told us they had a son and his name was Tim and that he now resides in New York. “As soon as they said that name, I automatically picked up on who he was as you had mentioned him before when we were speaking one time. They went on to ask if he was in trouble and when we told them what he had done, they were not the least surprised. They said that he had done it before but had gotten off easily because of this big-shot lawyer that had handled the case. They went on to speak about his mental health and it turns out he is the perfect psychopath. He’s one of them who when they fall in love, they fall hard and they tend to not move on until they have the person they want. It’s like he enjoys

To watch her. I reminded myself why I couldn’t allow distraction. Marcus’s reports were frustratingly thin. Sightings that led nowhere, grainy photos that revealed nothing, and yet there was a method to the madness that made me nervous. The stalker was deliberate, careful, letting us know he existed without exposing himself fully. Marcus warned me that this psychological strain might be as dangerous as any physical threat. He wasn’t wrong. The way the twins were becoming clingier, the way Stella tensed at every unexpected knock, the way I myself found it impossible to stop scanning the perimeter—it all compounded into a constant pressure.

He has become my addiction, my desire. Suddenly, the same strange feeling crawls over me as if someone is watching us. “What's wrong?” “Could you close the window?” He turns his head to the window before looking into my eyes again. “Is something wrong?” He slowly pulls out from my space, gets off me, and approaches the window, zipping his black pants. “Someone is stalking me.” “A stalker?” He glances around the dark garden but it's empty and silent. “I don't see anyone.”

“She found out I was released from prison and started stalking me. Within a few months of her doing it, I caught her in my penthouse and had her sent away to a mental institution.” Emilia leans back and looks at me with a frown. “Was she evaluated?” “She was,” I breathe, chasing that fucking orgasm she doesn’t want to give me. “A personality disorder that borders on deadly obsession. Left untreated, it can be dangerous.” She nods, then she throws back her head and starts riding me faster, the sounds of her wet pussy and moans echoing all over the bedroom. “And what happened next?” she whispers in the throes of lust. I reach up to grab a handful of her bouncing tits, but she removes my hand a

Let them build up to an incinerating level, then fuck them -- it's so worth it. Stalkers ignore ROs. That's okay. Now you can legally trap them. They'll do whatever you want. Not because they are afraid of you. It is an RO for God's sake -- one night in jail, maybe. No, they'll do whatever sex act you request because that's why they are stalking you in the first place; the sensual/emotional connection.

Who is a stalker, or should I rather say what is the meaning of a stalker? A stalker is a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention. Can I really define this man as a stalker? Can I really place him in this perfect box and label it ‘Stalker’? He does not harass me physically. This, he does not do. He actually likes to make me think I’m in total control. But lately, I have felt harassed emotionally.

My identity has already been compromised, and there's no way for me to change what's already been done. I want to stop myself from killing again, but my mind won't let me. My own mind won't give me peace. Here I am, stalking a woman. One of those citizens who moved out of Burton Grove that hasn't returned yet. She has been one of my potential targets tha I didn't get to finish because of how the whole thing turned out. I'm like a drug addict who can't enough. -----------------------