Lovely Little Psychopath

Lilly, a cute delicate little name for a girl that isn't so cute and delicate.
She wouldn't have a problem slipping poison into your morning coffee just to watch you writher on the floor in agony, or cutting your breaks and watching you run through a stop light and hit a fire hydrant. Lilly doesn't seem much like a cute little girl anymore, does she?

*WARNING* CONTAINS OCCASIONAL VIOLENCE
But, this is a book about a Psychopath, so what did you really expect?

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1. Caught

Chapter 1: Caught

 

Her long black hair was tangled, and the make up she had spent meticulous time applying was smudged. She smiled at her reflections, knowing that these were the marks of a job well done. If she were to come away from a kill clean it meant that it had been too easy, no good.

But this blue eyed man had been a fighter. She had enjoyed listening to his tortured screams as she slowly severed each of his fingers, as much as she could enjoy anything really. It was too bad he wasn't more well behaved, he had such nice eyes, and a curious way of thinking, if he weren't so annoying she may have kept him around.

She couldn't help but be drawn to the first time she had seen herself like this, of course that was for a much different reason, a reason beyond her control. She knew that that was the day she broke. The same blank look had graced her face that day too. She had never smiled again after that day, vowing revenge on the man that had hurt her.

Of course, the next week she had sworn the man in the bar had been her step father, and even though he soon proved not to be she couldn't help but kill him, she wouldn't have someone walking around looking exactly like her step-father, that simply wouldn't do.

At first it was only men that reminded her of step father, but now she just needed the kill, the rush that came with each new victim, and their tortured screams, making her relive her first kill.

She knew deep down that what she was doing was not okay, but that part of her no longer existed, it had died the night her step father had taken advantage of her. The only thing she knew now was the pleasure of the kill, and she was content to know only that.

The stars shown through the tiny window of the house her mother had lived in once upon a time. She wouldn't be able to stay for much longer. Surely the police had been called, and knowing her habitual need to break into her own home they were sure to be here soon. She slid a brush through her hair detangling it quickly and left her dirty clothes on the floor, finding the stash she had hidden the last time she was here.

It often surprised her that she got away with all that she did. She was glad she got away with it, but her surprise was more with the insolence of the justice system she so eagerly defied. By now you'd think her mother would've gotten a security system of some sort or perhaps had a cop stationed outside, but no, never.

After dressing in the long black skirt and long sleeve shirt and face covering that gave her a religious look she jumped out the window. She landed softly in the grass below her and started for the near by wood that surrounded her little home. She had just crossed the tree line when the voices surrounded her.

"Now!"

"Is that her!"

"Open fire!"

She giggled and slunk to the forest floor. Finally, something interesting had happened, things were staring to get boring.

She crawled on her stomach in a perfected army crawl, tearing her long skirt, and pulling her veil from her head. The bullets whizzed around her, but were becoming scarce. The underbrush made it too hard for them to locate her, and soon she would have to stop moving or she would be heard.

"Come out with your hands up, and we won't hurt you." A voice spoke over a megaphone from somewhere to her right.

"Many people have claimed they wouldn't hurt me if I just do what they asked, why should I believe you would do differently than they?" she asked him.

"I will give you one more warning, come out with your hands up!" The officer yelled again.

"Kill me officer, please, I beg you, do my step father proud and kill the innocent little rape victim."  She taunted him. The surrounding area was silent and she smiled. That always made them stop, the ones with hearts, it made them pity her, and filled their hearts with compassion. That was their first mistake.

"Lilly, we aren't going to hurt you, we just want to help," A different, younger voice spoke.

"Help what? Make me better? You're kind have failed me once, why should I believe that you will not fail me a second time. I have no faith n your system. I begged them to listen to me, and still my step father was free to pillage me for a year, until I stopped him myself. Nothing you can do will erase the pain from that stolen year of my life."

I had decided on this story long ago, I was making them feel sorry for me, drawing them in with lies of a tortured woman, make them pity me, and go for the kill when they least expected, it was the perfect idea.

"I understand that we've failed you, but please, Lilly, give us a chance to make this right." The voice begged her.


"No, you don't understand!" She screamed, making her voice sound teary. "No one understands! You are man, you don't know how it feels!" She screamed at him guilt, now, she would guilt them into feeling bad, twist their emotions until she wasn't an emotionless psychopath, as they often portrayed her on the news, but a scared and broken little girl, who was just looking for someone to understand, and trying to keep herself from getting hurt.

"Lilly, please, help us to understand." He begged her.

"You can't." She croaked, and let out a sob they may or may not have heard, forcing tears to stream down her face.

"At least let us try."

"You tried to kill me."

"That was a mistake, they weren't supposed to,"

"But if they had you wouldn't have cared."

He was silent now.

"Maybe we wouldn't have, but we will care now, come quietly and we'll just talk, I want to know your side of the story."

"I've told you my side of the story."

"No, you've gven me a summary, I want to know everything, I want to help you."

"No you don't,"

"How can you know unless you trust me?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because I know exactly where you are and haven't ordered my men to shoot."

"Men," She whispered. "I don't trust men. It was a man that made me what I am, and no man can undo that."

Despite all she said she stood, anticipating the game she had just started with the man that was speaking to her. "Man, has failed me more than once, I give you the last of my trust in your kind. Fail me, and I know that there is truly no hope."

I put my hands up and allowed the man with the mega phone to come forward and take me gently by the arm while another cuffed my hands.

I smiled wickedly while none of them were looking, and readied myself for the long game ahead of me.

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