Psychopath Test Riddle Novels & Stories

" It wasn't just the essay. Every single answer Ian wrote matched mine exactly. No matter how I defended myself, it all sounded like the desperate excuses of a cheater. I truly couldn't understand how things ended up that way. But now, Shirley's inner thoughts revealed all the answers. The glasses she gave me contained a hidden pinhole camera. That was why Ian, someone who didn't even need glasses, had worn a pair during the exam that day. Meeting Shirley's gaze, I gently touched the glasses and carefully adjusted them on my face. Her smile grew wider. 'If he's too dumb to even notice this, then he doesn't deserve to get into Alpheno College. He should just become Ian's stepping stone instea

The psychologist made me answer lots of tests. At first I was angry, because if I had known I would be taking a test, I would have studied. The psychologist told me that the tests she made me answer doesn’t require studying. She told me I could answer it the way I want to. She lied. The book I’m reading right now told me there were certain answers to certain tests. “Blue?” A shadow looms over my book and I frown. “Buddy?”

“It’s hard to sleep when you think your brother is turning into a psychopath and there is a psychopath in your house again… Worse than ever. It was like going to jail just… made him worse… He’s dragging the rest of the pack in this spiral, and I… I…” My eyes burned. The results of that test flashed through my eyes, the registration information. Things I still didn’t understand or even know how to understand filled my mind. I could barely breathe, yet it felt distant and growing more out of reach until I couldn’t even panic. “What… did you give me?” “A medical grade calming potion.” I looked up at him. His expression had softened. I saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “You looked like

But after Papa, after tonight, I don’t have the strength. His footsteps echo as he approaches, each click of his shoes deliberate. He pulls the gun again, the barrel gleaming as he taps it lightly against my forehead. My jaw tightens. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” My voice cuts low, sharp. “Me on my knees. You’re sick. Twisted.” His lips curve faintly, not quite a smile. “You think I’m crazy.” “No.” My eyes lock on his, unflinching. “I think you’re a psychopath.”

Warning This story contains violence and content that may be distressing and not suitable for some readers. Read at your own risk. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a part of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are purely coincidental. A psychopath is a cold, ruthless, heartless, and inhuman being. Belladonna Salvador is one of those. She's pretty and super intelligent, just like any other psychopath.

She replied pretending to be ignorant of what Carolina meant. "Elena, he is a fucking psychopath. A deadly criminal for that matter. He is dangerous." Carolina stated almost as if checking if Elena had probably forgotten those facts about the guy. "Yes, and he has psychological issues. He is still a patient and he deserves to be treated." Elena just earned a dead stare from Carolina who looked at her as if she was missing her head.

“Do you like killing people?” “Still trying to diagnose me as a psychopath?” I ask with a smirk. He smiles sheepishly, “I’m just trying to understand you. From what little I was told about you; you weren’t painted in a good light. I was told you’re cold, sadistic, and ruthless. I’ve seen you be ruthless; I’ve seen you be cold, but I haven’t seen you once be sadistic. In fact, I’ve seen you be compassionate a few times. You’re not like what I thought you were. For someone with such a terrifying reputation, you’ve shown me nothing but kindness. In your own weird way that is,” he explains.

but he doesn't fucking stop talking, yes he was that wicked "And if you keep pissing me off, just remember I know how to hide a dead body" He finishes his fucking sentence, and pats my cheek with his cold hands, and it made my breath shakes, but...but I don't let him win, and I don't freaking want to give him satisfaction, pleasure, and make him smile wider, so I parted my already champ lips, and said the roght thing that popped into my head "Tell me, is being a fucking psychopath something you like, or something you do?" I asked him with a mixture of fear, anger and frustration in my voice, hoping it would make the damn smile disappear, but damnit, he only chuckled out as if to tell me that

Instead he looks at me the way a chess player studies the board after setting a trap. I feel it hit me then, that cold creeping certainty and realization that has been hitting me like whiplash that this wasn’t like any other assessment… I know, I’m screwed! Like really screwed! Like when your life gets inconveniently screwed by a sociopath, demon, psychopathic judge! Every instinct I’ve honed in years of profiling the most dangerous, deceptive minds is screaming at me now to run! HE’S NOT JUST A PSCHO JUDGE, HE’S JUST MIGHT BE A KILLER JUDGE!

His face contorted as he thrashed in a frenzy. "Let me go! Let go of me now, or I'll kill every single one of you!" The officers restraining him rushed forward, pale-faced. "Chief Turner, the perpetrator arrested in the south district case is a psychopath, and he looks exactly like you." The man howled with a twisted expression. "Let me go, or I'll slaughter you all!" At the sight of that face, my soul instinctively shuddered. It was as if grimy nails were digging into my flesh once more. Even though I was already dead, the taste of blood rose in my throat.