Secrets Of A Psychopath Novels & Stories

I clenched my jaw, my eyes filling up with hatred while I stared at the man in front of me, "here's what we're gonna do. First, I'm going to disfigure you, I'll torture you so bad that you'll beg me to kill you. But I won't. I'll cut your dick and feed it to you and then I'll slit your throat. What do you think about my plan?" "No! Please!" He sobbed, "I'm sorry, I really am. Th-this—" his voice broke, "—w-hat yo-u're doi-ng to me is inhuman! You're a psychopath! J-just s-send m-me to j-jail!" "No," my voice was cold, "now, tell me where these other friends of yours are before we proceed."

“How could he have been so ruthless?” “You have asked me the same question for 23 years about every killer you put in jail” Cassandra states, getting a tissue from the small bench near the doorway and handing it to Josephine before sitting down next to her again. “My answer is the same. People will do stupid things for money; power and love. You said yourself they are the three motivators for murder. Maxwell Springfield’s motivation was all three. Money from the drugs, power from his status as a doctor and the love he had for the money and power. Makes him a deadly adversary.” Dabbing the tears from her eye; “I love you” Josephine says, giving Cassandra a kiss. “Do you mind if I see this inv

He is wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt; the tattoos covering his arms are fully exposed. It amazes me how he is a big CEO who owns a billion-dollar company, and yet, under the fancy suits and sexy glasses, he's just a punk man at heart with his tattoos and great taste in music. Sometimes I think he is two completely different people when he's at work and when we're alone together. It's almost as if he has a secret identity. A sudden thought strikes me, and I do my best to conceal the wheels turning in my head from Atlas.

I couldn't really think of anything else to do just then. I made it pretty far through before I fell asleep again. It was easy to read, largely because it was tripe. I'd taken basic psychology and sociology, and this was your standard b-grade cult recruitment literature. A whole lot of promises of personal development and fellowship, with very few facts. I could see lurking in the background of the text the standard tools of the charismatic psychopath: breaking down the personality, making them dependent on you for all things, making leaving seem impossible, separating families, and instilling fanatical devotion. He was, naturally, the only cure for a corrupt and unhappy world.

I had to make him my closet friend ,even though I know that the difference between us both was so much. Even when I tested him with some hard and difficult secrets years back ,he proved to me that my secrets we're safe with him and I could tell him anything I wanted. My phone rang that morning , as I was in the bathroom running some water through my skull which was burning from the severe headache I had all through the night, trying to run some business with my laptop which concerned the palace. This call must be important ,I said to my self. James was the only one who knew where I was and if he placed a call to me,then something important might had really come up.

Carista never knew; she was never aware that the man who had been her friend, now living under the same roof, was a man with an extraordinary obsession for her. Taylor observed the peaceful face of Carista as she slept soundly on the couch. The man had just arrived in Aberfey and felt relieved knowing that the chocolate envelope given by Nania was still intact in the room. "I thought you would act rudely; I forgot you're not the kind of woman who does as she pleases," Taylor muttered, then opened the chocolate envelope.

i held that in my hand tightly. Some mysterious woman admitted me in the nearby hospital at the accident night and took my pendant and disappeared. "Lara, what are you thinking about?" maggie frowned. I came back to my senses and said with fake smile "it's nothing...." She pinched my cheeks and said "Don't try to fool me, I am the only one who knows you well and your thoughts.." "Yeah, well it's true. I can't hide anything from you so my dear little sisy can I get a cup of hot coffee from you." I said.

Just her and the work and the plan laid out in the notebooks stacked neatly at the end of the bench. She pulled the first notebook toward her. Opened it. Her own handwriting from three years ago. Neat and precise and completely certain about everything it was doing. *Subject profile: Damien Voss. CEO Voss Industries. Age 31. Psychological assessment consistent with primary psychopathy with elevated fixation markers. History of obsessive attachment to objects and concepts. No documented romantic relationships. Suspected olfactory sensitivity above baseline. Potential susceptibility to compound V7 estimated at 89% based on psychographic modeling.*

I was still naked and the stench of alcohol and cigarettes was too strong. I turned on the shower and stepped inside, letting the cold water run over me. No matter how much I tried to ignore Emory's threats, it kept coming back. It's either me or me. She was insane. How had I lived with psychopath for five years, and she had managed to hide that side of her for so long was beyond me. All the things she did. All the things she said. She had no shame. She was willing to do anything. I was sure of that.

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.