Psychotic Obsession Novels & Stories

Obsession isn’t something you choose. It chooses you. Wraps around your soul like a vice, squeezing until there’s nothing left but the sickness of wanting. It seeps into your blood, replacing logic, making you something… else. Something monstrous. And fuck… I like it the more I watch her.

Absolutely not. He isn't like that. He's many things — bossy, rude, a walking thundercloud — but not unsafe. If he ever had wrong intentions, he'd had plenty of opportunities in the last four years. He could've gotten rid of me in seventeen different ways and no one would've questioned it. Still… I grabbed my pocket knife and slipped it into my pajama pocket. Just in case. 0.00001% paranoia is still paranoia, and my life hadn't exactly been a training ground for trusting people blindly.

"I still can't believe your bother is a murder. He has been pretty quiet over the years." "Yeah until she came into his life. My brother had a sick obsession with my mother. I was fourteen and Dalton was only sixteen. My mother married his father. I was happy about having a brother, but then I started to notice things with Dalton were not right. He followed my mother around like a lost dog. I would catch him standing in her bedroom. Just watching her sleep. I tried to tell my mother the things I was witnessing, but she would just blow them off. My mother was a good woman and she was good to Dalton. I think he took it in a different way. It was almost like he was in love with her. She was sma

It never ends well. Obsession is lethal. It creeps in quietly, wrapping itself around you like comfort, but it suffocates in the end. It erases who you were and replaces it with hunger. If I stay, the person I am will disappear, replaced by someone who longs for a violent man, a sadistic killer. Obsession has never been a good trait, and this one terrifies me more than he ever could. More than what happened earlier tonight. Being locked in that office was horrifying, but this is worse. This feels like addiction, deep and consuming.

His voice cracked with insanity, the madness threatening to consume him entirely. The room was charged with a tension so thick it felt as if the walls might collapse. The struggle between obsession, frustration, and an overwhelming need for control was about to reach its breaking point.

I was ill, my mind was feverish, it was flicking on, off, on, off, as heavy as a lecher's kiss, and it was telling me that they knew. It didn't help that when I looked up, eyes of ice were focused on me completely, boring past my mind and past my soul and into those dark corners where the festering moss of obsession was invading my mind like dandelions.

as the words flowed out of my mouth, I suddenly remembered Ayita, these were the exact same words she uttered that same day. “This is my confession” I paused for a while and closed my eyes, “I ordered the death of someone and I am obsessed with a woman. I didn’t choose to be obsessed with her but it happened and here we are. I ordered the death of a man because he was liking the woman I liked” The priest kept listening to me and from the little holes separating us, he didn’t have any judgmental look on his face. I already liked him. “Do you wish to desist from such things?” He asked me and I paused, I wasn’t ready to let go of her nor was I ready to let any man near her.

"We have the therapist now" Fvcking hell! I don't know why these people are obsessed with a fake therapist who can cause them to commit suicide but one thing lingered forever in my head. Who the hell is this psychotic boss they talk about?

His breathing has changed. Subtle, but I notice. I noticed a lot about this son of a bitch. The way his pupils are slightly dilated. The tension in his shoulders that has nothing to do with anger. I know that look. I’ve seen it before, on other men, in darker places than hospital scrub rooms. “You know what your problem is, Morozov?” I ask, voice dropping lower. “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” “Your problem is that you think obsession looks like competition.” I tilt my head, studying him. “But I’ve seen the difference. I know what it looks like when someone can’t stop watching. Can’t stop finding excuses to be in the same room. Can’t stop—”

I said. “Yeah well now I’m pissed because why have you not eaten. I’m very sure that twat Ife is responsible for this. I’m sorry baby..” he said and put his hand on my face. I almost flinched away but man, I was trying very hard to be very careful with this man. He was going to snap if I did anything stupid. In his eyes I could see someone who was deranged. His mind was broken at this point. He was troubled. This frantic pursuit of me was not because he loved me but it was much deeper than that. He was obsessed. And obsession could make people do crazy things that they in their right mind would not normally do.