Introduction: A Dream Come True
Not all psychopaths are mass-murders.
Only some.
The rest of us—the smarter ones, generally—live like normal people. We smile, we laugh, and we pretend to care. We might seem a little off, to the more observant person. But for the most part, we blend in.
I am a psychopath. Like the rest, I hide from the general population by imitating them. Empathy is surprisingly easy to fake. Or not so surprisingly. Even normal people fake it all the time. All it takes is a sympathetic look and a kind word. Nobody can tell the difference.
I am (or was, depending on your point of view) extraordinarily good at faking emotions. Most people would describe me as nice or even helpful. My good behavior let me live an ordinary life like the rest.
But despite my dreadfully boring and pedestrian existence, I always had the urge to become one of them. The mass-murderers, I mean. Just how wonderful would it be to kill! To stab, or shoot, or butcher someone. To feel the warm bloods run through my fingers and coat my palms. To paint with the fluids that course through someone's veins. Oh, I could wax eloquent for ages!
I won't, though. I'm not exactly known for my poetry skills.
Though I longed to, I ultimately didn't kill anyone. The idea of jail was… unappetizing. I would have been driven (more) insane by the boredom. Besides, I liked being an upper-middle class person in the developed world. Money, sex, and other creature comforts helped me contain my bloodlust.
Contain my bloodlust. Not eradicate it.
Anyway, my dull existence in the real world came to an untimely end. Cancer was the culprit, in case you were wondering. Oh, boo-hoo. I'm sure it was sad. The deluded fools who called themselves my friends all cried and "kept me in their prayers." Regardless, after a few months of chemotherapy, I succumbed to the disease.
But what came afterwards was the really interesting part.
Sure, I was reborn, and that surprised me. I certainly didn't expect another life. I half-suspected this to be a hallucination brought on by my dying mind, but it seemed a bit too real for that.
The fictional universe part was surprising too, but that honestly wasn't more astonishing than the whole reincarnation concept. I figured it out when I noticed the headbands and mountain carvings. I'd have to be stupid to not connect the dots. Sure, I could simply be living in a strange cosplay town. But for some odd reason, that seemed less likely. It takes real dedication to figure out how to walk on walls just to imitate an anime.
(Now, you might be wondering why the hell a psychopath like me would even know about the show in the first place. You must realize that I was a functional psychopath. I enjoyed TV too, especially the shows that had violence. Creature comforts, remember? But I mainly watched Naruto because of Jane. But that's a story for another time.)
When I finally put two and two together, I was overjoyed.
More specifically, I started laughing.
I didn't care if this was concoction of my delirious mind. Not anymore. A world where murder was accepted—no, encouraged?
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Perhaps there's a heaven, after all.
AN: This OC-Insert is about a psychopath. The main character will not be nice. S/he will be cruel, manipulative, and downrightamoral. The views of the character are not my own. I repeat. I am not the character. I do not agree with the character. This is astory.
I am also not a psychologist. Most of my knowledge is from the internet. If you would like to see my sources, I would be happy to share. Just send me a PM.
WARNING: Discussion of mental disorders will play a large part in this story. Violence will also have a huge role. The story will mention sex, but it will not contain any "lemons" or erotica. The rating is likely to increase to M in the near fuure.
Thank you for reading. All reviews, follows, and favorites are greatly appreciated.