My Psychopath (on hold)

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leaned against the door, hands combing through my hair, tears still pouring down my face.

I muttered a teleportation spell and in a flash, I was home.

Now smiling to myself, I jumped up from the floor, wiping away the warm liquid and congratulated myself for another flawless performance.

Feigning emotions was dreadfully boring, but when done right can weasel your way into people's hearts. And that's what I intended.

Pulling out a custom folder, I opened it and admired the organized look of it all. This was my plan. My plan to kill Asher Lee.

It was all simple, I make myself look like the vulnerable girl he thinks I am which might be hard considering, make him fall head over heels for me, and then it's goodnight.

Of course, I have to deal with problems like media, as he is pretty famous, questions and the like but that's easy to dodge, just bring the waterworks and you'll be showered with free chocolates and pitying looks.

The last thing I had to solve was the cause of death. A gun would be a good one but the sound and the cost and the acting that comes with it seems like too much work.

Using a knife could be a nice one too, but do it stupidly and it lives long enough to rat me out. Good thing I'm not stupid.

As I weighed my options, there was a sudden knock on my door.

'What do you need?' I skipped formalities and asked hulk sized man in front of me.

'Dungeon 5. Robert Corder.' He gave a bronze key and walked away.

Sighing, I closed my door back and opened my wardrobe for black clothes.

I nimbly walked down the long flight of stairs, where the dungeons were.

The dungeons were small, confined, dimly lit and always smelt of blood and decaying flesh.

It was underneath the building and only a few people came here, to feed them or to torture them.

When somebody disobeys my father, depending on severity, you can be stuck with watch duty where you do nothing but watch the people here, breathing nothing but death, making sure nobody escapes, which was stupid, everybody was too weak to even sit up, which made the job even more boring.

On several occasions, the people stuck on watch duty get a free live movie on people to get tortured until we get the truth out of them.

'Hey, Tony.' I greeted the sleep-deprived soul who got stuck with the job.

'Mm.' He hummed, eyes barely open.

I made my best Griego voice and reprimanded him, making him jump to attention and apologize profusely.

I started laughing, feigning happiness, everything from the big smile that you get to the bright shine in your eyes.

Happiness was the easiest to pretend. Smile and you are finished.

'Please don't do that. I've been here for a month, I can't remember the last time I've slept.' Tony muttered.

I rolled my eyes and walked towards Dungeon 5.

'Get up.' I said to the man, who I remember was named Robert, who was still clean and had clothes on.

He must've only arrived.

'Who the fuck are you?!' Yep, he only just arrived.

'I am your worst nightmare.' I said, smiling.

'Hah! A tiny little girl wike thinks you can hurt me?' He laughed.

This made my blood boil and I dragged him across the dirty cobblestone, effectively tearing the clothing a bit and making it drenched in mud and blood.

I had dragged him to the only clean room, where white tiles replaced the cobblestone. It was brightly lit and was specifically designed to keep sound in and keep strangers out. It was also very easy to clean the blood off.

I tied him to a chair against his thrashing and yelling and I heard his heart begin to quicken.

I inhaled deeply, his fear and trepidation coming off in waves.

'Now, you have something we want.' I went straight to the point.

'What do you mean?' He kept looking at anything but me.

'We want the password to your
account.' I frowned. It was not every day we couldn't hack into an account.
'You had decent security and we couldn't hack into it. So now we are asking for your password. Now we could do it peacefully, you could tell us what it is and I'll do you the favour of killing you, eh, relatively painless. Of do it the hard way and feel what real pain feels like.' I said nonchalantly, checking my mails.

He looked conflicted, weighing his options before glaring up at me and saying no.

'Will this change your mind?' I beckoned the girl hiding outside to come in.

She was the guy's daughter. Not the real one, of course, we didn't have time for that, but a robot, an AI, that was so perfectly designed, it looked like it was real flesh and bone and not wires and circuits.

'D-daddy?' The AI said, trembling.

'Child, what are you doing here?! Where's your mother?!'

'She's, she's dead! They killed her.' The AI sobbed.

Even I was impressed at the skilled robot's antics.

'They said if you give them what they want they won't kill Neo and me. They already started hurting Neo. He has a big gash in his head.' The girl started to relay false information to him.

'So... Will you say what we want?' I pulled the girl towards me.

His jaw ticked and he clenched his fists tightly.


'What about now?' I put my dagger to the girl's neck.

The guy chuckled.

'You won't kill her, you don't have the guts.' He looked at me.
'Watch me.' I sliced the girl's throat, cutting off her scream.

'You, bitch!' The guy yelled, leaning as far as the chair would let him.

'Calm down. The child's not real. It is merely an AI. Your real daughter is back home mourning the loss of her dead father.' I sneered.

'Now, Mr Corder will you mind giving us what we want, or would you like us to bring your real daughter over here?'

'I will never tell you. My family needs this money.'

'Well,' they can't exactly use it if their dead, soo?'


I pressed my lips together. Goddamn, this man's got some balls. Too bad they won't be there for much longer.

'Ok. Let's play a game.' I smiled and placed three objects in front of him. A corkscrew, my favourite silver dagger and a spoon with jagged edges that were used to cut pastry.

He looked at me, fear in his eyes, and I heard his heartbeat grow faster.

'T-the spoon?' He said, unsure.

Let the game begin.

By the time I had had enough, he was missing 2 fingers, a toe, an ear, and had more than a few deep gashes and wounds throughout his body. He was also missing an eye and was slowly bleeding out. I put salt in all of his wounds before I cauterized them.

The man still did not budge, and I was growing tired.

'Fuck you.' I spat out and stormed out of the room, back into the darkness, and instructed Tony to not let him rest nor sleep, even for a wink.

I walked up the stairs to my room and locked to the door.

I took off my blood-soaked clothes and sunk myself into the bathtub.

It won't take long for that man to break. He was a weak man, accustomed to the comforts of a wealthy life, where a new woman was there to keep his bed warm every night.

After we had what we needed, we will have no use for him and will be killed. Just like all the others.

Killing is a waste of time. It only quickens what will eventually happen which is death. Killing is defined as mercy in my dictionary. It rids you of the burdens of this world in a relatively painless way instead of living every day with mounting pains and sorrows and problems.

The only reason killing is a thing is for Fame, money or land.

If you kill Hitler, fame and praise for killing a psychomaniac! If you kill Zuckerburg and get away with it, score! You get endless riches. Kinda stupid actually, the lengths someone will go to get rich. If only walls could talk millionaires wouldn't be millionaires anymore.

I had finished my routine and wrapped myself in a towel and started to search for some underwear.

I despised my body. It has been used countless times by both men and women for their pleasure and it probably has more scars than stars in the sky.

Everything from small nicks from a blade to big ones caused by whips and other torture devices. Every scar on my body was caused by the men who visited for deals or even my father when he was angry at something gone wrong. I have never had an injury caused by recklessness or innocent clumsiness. Every scar I had was specifically made the mock me.

My wolf has been buried deep somewhere. When I first arrived they kept drugging the food with powdered silver so I didn't eat for a week before I gave in and ate the food they gave me. My wolf became weaker until she completely vanished when I was twelve. It was all part of their plan. After a while, they fed me normal, untainted food but my wolf never came back.

I was their play toy, using me to release their anger or just to ease whatever they have going on. I'm used to it.

Sighing, I snuggled into my bed, pulling the covers around me and closed my eyes
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