Sociopathic Tendencies Novels & Stories

She loved him. I knew she did. That’s what made everything worse. She was so in love with him that she took all the ill treatments for 4 whole years. Completely blind to reason, rather did more to make him like her too. When it was all impossible. Could a sociopath fall in love? Could he? Eliot was a sociopath. Diagnosed as early as 8 years old. A stupid crazy bastard that used everything and everyone to his advantage! He was unfit for anything. Unfit for her. For her love and attention!

“Look, I know you hate me, I don’t like you either. You’re cold, unresponsive, emotionless, evil—” “Get on with it,” “But surely you see that they are using you?” He says, chuckling again. “I mean, come on, no offense, but you don’t exactly have anything special about you. Except you’re very well hidden psychopathic tendencies. Do they know by the way? That you used to—”

The last vestiges of the devil incarnate. My own father, who was a sociopath and frequently gave into his extreme impulsivity, as evidenced by him killing his mate in front of me; my sperm donor also lacked in his Alpha capabilities. But not Reid. He was an amazing leader, when he had his pack. He was witty, intelligent, strategic, charming, self-aware, inspiring, he could easily adapt to almost any situation.

He had no interest in hearing what close playmates Shawn and Zoey had been. "Do you still like Sarah?" Shawn questioned. He wasn't a good person, and under the influence of the Zuckman family, his dark and twisted side rose to the surface, shaping him into a violent psychopath. He felt no remorse for destroying beautiful things and had an unhealthy obsession with destruction. He always used underhanded tactics and never considered the consequences of his actions. He did not care if his actions hurt anyone else. If he were thrown into hell, he would drag someone else along with him.

Why didn't I get caught despite all the killing? I got my answers when I met a member of a society that aimed to protect people with a psychopathic disorder. Yes, I have a psychopathic disorder. And that's why I always wanted to kill someone. Because I felt like I was going insane, I visited a psychiatrist. However, I was proven wrong about thinking that the voices in my head were driving me crazy. It turns out that what I am experiencing is not just an ordinary mental breakdown, but rather Psychopath Disorder. According to my doctor, this disorder is characterized by a loss of self-control, causing a person to act like an insane individual and kill someone without hesitation.

“If they were trying to kill me, yes.” “And when you looked down at their body, bleeding and lifeless, how would you feel?” My stomach dropped at the image he painted. No matter what, the body was a person with family and friends that would never see them again. “Guilty.” He pointed his finger toward me. “That’s the difference between everyone else and me. I have no guilt.” “You’re a sociopath.” “And more. The added defect in not seeing that killing is bad. My brain knows it is, but I don’t care. One less creature roaming the earth. Thinning out the herd.”

After being in therapy most of my life, I have a great understanding of my own mind and my problems. Mommy issues to the max, some light daddy issues, antisocial personality disorder, borderline personality disorder and obsessive personality traits. Basically, I'm an obsessive sociopath who can't control his emotions or compulsions that much... although, I've been getting better with age. But because of my antisocial personality diagnosis (people like me are often called either sociopaths or psychopaths), I'm obligated by the fucking state to continue a consistent schedule in therapy. Forever. Even if my diagnosis is a secret between me, my shrink, my father and the state.

I'd just perfected techniques that most people used unconsciously. I feel satisfaction when my plans work and frustration when they don't. That's all I've ever felt. That's all I'll ever feel. You know that, Emilia. That's why you documented my behavior instead of trying to fix it. Because you understood I was never broken. Just different. Different is fine. What you're doing is sociopathic. Labels are just tools people use to feel superior to those who think differently. Call me whatever makes you feel better about your betrayal.

And sickness could be treated. He clicked on another link: Coping Mechanisms for PTSD. The article talked about therapy, about healthy outlets. And then it mentioned maladaptive coping mechanisms—substance abuse, reckless behavior, compulsive behaviors… like the one he used. The article explained that these were desperate attempts to regain a sense of control, to numb the pain. It wasn’t a choice; it was a survival instinct gone wrong.

He laughed and snorted. "What exactly are you trying to say?" "He is suffering from ASPD." My brow furrowed as a result of what he said, and he rubbed his head as if he was annoyed with me. "Everson has an antisocial personality disorder. That's why he's so excellent at lying, and why he has no qualms about hurting others."