Psychotic Obsession Novels & Stories

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words to describe the horrors she had endured. “Sir, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your wife Jenny has been suffering a lot of maltreatment at the hands of her family. They’ve been pressuring her to marry someone they believe would mistreat her and turn her life into a living hell. They thought that you—with your cruel and harsh reputation—would be the perfect candidate for that role. Unfortunately, their plan seems to have worked. You’ve started showing your true nature toward her by coming home late, which caused her to catch a cold.”

She grumbled, pinching her lips together. A particular memory came to mind, just as sharp as the rest. This particular fragment contained the one and only time my father had me see a psychiatrist, a balding old wolf I didn’t care to remember the name of. He had mentioned something about obsessive compulsions, and claimed they were what sent me into a fit of rage should anyone think to touch my bare skin. I wondered if this was what Violet had—an obsessive thought, an urge so strong it burrowed beneath her skin and sliced and sliced until she had no choice but to act on it.

“Yes.” “You knew I was going to research you and prepare to betray you.” “Yes.” “And you hired me anyway.” “Because you’re the only person I’ve ever met who doesn’t need me to survive. You’d survive without me. You’d survive without anyone.” He reached up and touched her face like he was remembering what skin felt like. “And the moment I realized that, I understood I was going to lose my mind if you left.” She understood, in that moment, what obsession actually meant. It wasn’t passion. It wasn’t love in any traditional sense. It was the recognition that someone could exist without you and choosing to make them your reason to exist anyway.

Jennifer, who was only a year younger than Vicky, had experienced no less than Vicky over the years. Seeing Vicky's interest in the topic, Jennifer spoke up, "Anthony's mother told me that most obsessions aren't from true emotions, but rather a person's deeply ingrained principles. Some people have a strong obsession with certain things, which may be due to experiencing something profound that contradicts their beliefs."

Business associates reported erratic behavior, sudden mood swings, an inability to engage with important decisions because his attention was elsewhere. "He's made four more serious business errors this week alone," Rachel reported. "Decisions he would have never made if he was thinking clearly. His obsession with you is literally destroying what's left of his empire." "And the more it crumbles, the more he fixates on me as the solution," I said, understanding the psychology at play. "He thinks if he can just reclaim me, if he can just possess me again, somehow everything else will fall back into place." "Classic obsessive thinking," Rachel agreed. "He's built you up in his mind as this ultim

It might sound romantic and beautiful how the man was ready to give up on his life for her but in reality, it's not. It's dreadful. If he's enough crazy to kill someone or enough psycho to kill himself for her then he was also mad enough to go to any lengths to have her. This scares her. His obsession wasn't just a mere infatuation, it was dangerous, it was psychotic. It was scary.

Indeed, a psycho have emotions too, they just need someone who'll understand and won't leave them when they need them the most and it happens to be her, my Baby Milda. She was the psychopath obsession and become the wife now. I love you so much... I promise to never leave you, forever.

An odd video had caught my attention, my eyes glued to my cell phone screen, watching every movement of the lady who performed and the words that were being displayed on the screen when tears rolled down my cheeks. My hands began to vibrate, my teeth gnashing against each other. with the last restricted strength in me, I type a message which says. {Having a mental breakdown. Talk to you later} This same message was forwarded to four of my closest friends and the same people I was speaking to, this act of mine was done to make sure no one was alarmed by why I was no longer responding to my messages. Images began to flash before my eyes and my system became weak, so weak that I could not respo

Since I met her, every slight movement, every stare, every man who looks at her too long triggers something ancient in me something that shifts under my skin like a creature stretching after sleep. And Alina Miroshnikova… She is the only thing that stirs it into something sharper than instinct. Not softness, Not warmth, Not love but Something worse. A fixation? Or a compulsion. A need threaded through every violent impulse I’ve ever had. If they wanted a diagnosis, they should have written this in their little files: “Subject presents with obsessive, possessive ideation toward a specific individual, accompanied by heightened aggression response and impaired inhibitory control. Risk of extrem

Sitting at my desk, I felt like hitting my head on it. I'd all but propositioned a complete stranger that I had quickly become obsessed with. I found my self willing her to reply, re-reading what little contact we have already had. I'm pathetic. I've worked hard to build my billion dollar empire, I have several research facilities, labs and dispensaries, properties that range fom modest and affordable to luxurious and down right extravagant. I'm the director of several charities and own hotels and restaurants and yet here I am, losing my mind over a beautiful girl.