Sociopathic Tendencies Romane & Geschichten

he asked venomously. “Get off my ceiling. There are spiders up there-” “This is a journal of your dealings with me, isn't it! What, you think yourself an anthropologist?: 'Samael drifts towards psychopathic tendencies and seems unable to keep his mouth shut. He can't control his id and seems to have a schizotypal personality- Holy Mothers of Rot and Sin, are you psychoanalyzing me!” he roared, hurling the journal to the ground. I caught it just in time.

“Perhaps he fucked up and being stranded naked out in the middle of nowhere was a way to kill him off.” I realized that I didn’t like the thought of him being in danger. Although he didn’t seem worried… “Perhaps he’s a sociopath,” I wondered out loud. “They have a hard time relating to other peoples’ feelings, but unlike psychopaths, they do have the ability to make deep, meaningful connections, meaning they can feel love and sympathy and stuff like that.” And I was telling myself this, because---? Well, I wasn’t quite sure. Did Zane strike me as a sociopath? Like someone who could jump me and slice my throat without missing a single night’s sleep over it?

Possibly for clarity. “Exactly!” I said. Finally he got what I have been trying to convey to him. “Okay, now, this is a problem. As a sociopath, you shouldn't feel things like that. However, there are moments when sociopathy is secondary. Which is often caused by repressed trauma. I would fix you that appointment so that these grey areas can be brought to light.” He promised and bid me bye, before I hung up. My eyes settled back on the reason for my doubt of my sociopathy and I wished for a number of reasons that my sociopathy was magically gone. One of the major reason was that I wanted to love her senseless and witless so that she could experience what true love felt like.

In his small, off the map, hick town full of imbreds and idiots, as he refered to them, he was the smartest one around. Combine his above average intelligence with his unsual choice of hobbies, and he might be considered a sociopath. Nate knows this, because he has a book on mental disorders and behaviors that he has read cover to cover many times. If ever asked, he would be comfortable classifying himelf as a sociopath. After memorizing the contents of the book, he feels confident in make a diagnosis for bother himself and his father, concerning their mental statuses. He knows that what the things that he does is wrong, but he does these things anyways, because he enjoys them. He feels no r

“But Peter is a potential criminal; he can't just be out there without professional support. Which makes me worry about you. Are you really okay? People like Peter don't feel remorse about anything and can end up hurting even those close to them. You really must stay away from him, or you yourself will be in danger.” I hung up the call on her face, putting the device back on the payphone. I was scared and bewildered; there was too much information for just one moment. Not only that, but I mean, of course I had noticed that Peter's behavior was not normal; his attitudes towards social issues were really marginal, but I thought it was all due to a tantrum or because he was just a troubled teen

he said from the other end. “And that prompts the murder?” I asked confusedly. “No, he has an egocentric and antisocial personality marked by a lack of remorse for one's actions, an absence of empathy for others, and also some criminal acts that are caused by curiosity, he is a psychopath. The psychiatrist that diagnosed it, said that it was inherited from someone in his family,” he said from the other end. “Mark, what causes the murder?” I asked impatiently.

I killed my mother and her boyfriend with no remorse and even today I feel nothing. After months of testing, sociopath was the diagnosis. Today they call it antisocial personality disorder. What a crock of shit. The original diagnosis is what attracted Victor. He needed a killer and he found one. I remember checking his bedroom door one night a few months after they brought me into their lives. It was unlocked. How he and Cindy slept with me, the child killer, down the hall is a mystery. The fact is, they never gave me a reason to kill them. Victor knew what I was and provided people for me to kill a year after he brought me into his home. It feeds a need inside me and he knew it.

The ledger lay open on Isabella’s desk, a brutal relic sprawled across polished glass like an uninvited truth. The pages, yellowed and fragile, seemed to hum with the weight of two decades of buried pain. Outside her suite, the Cornish night was quiet. Too quiet. But inside, her world was crashing. She stared at the line she had already memorised, read it again anyway: “Voluntary: No. Highly resistant personality. Excessive cognitive independence. Unwillingness to adhere to societal norms. High emotional attachments. Potential for systemic destabilisation.”

Will she ever be in love knowing that she is not capable of it? Can he tame the psychopath?

Only, I have another challenge coming. It's a war of sentiments and sanity. He is a selfish bastard. There cannot be anything good in him. He is arrogant, ignorant, and narcissistic. He manipulates and has no respect for anyone. He kills for power. He is in trouble. A mistake you can never afford. I chant it, seeping it ever so slowly into my conscience so it can forward to my subconscious mind. It must be firmly engraved.