Everyday Psychopaths

EVERYDAY PSYCHOPATHS

by

Jonas Eriksson

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Jonas Eriksson on Smashwords

Everyday Psychopaths

Copyright © 2013 by Jonas Eriksson

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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EVERYDAY PSYCHOPATHS

EVERYDAY PSYCHOPATHS

A Short Story Collection

by Jonas Eriksson

Copyright © 2013 by Jonas Eriksson

All rights, reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

Published by Jonas Eriksson http://www.jonaswrites.com

EVERYDAY PSYCHOPATHS

A Short Story Collection

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Table of Contents:

Foreword

A Killer Date

The Development Talk

The Worst/Best Day of My Life

The Wake-Up Call (sample)

Hollywood Ass. (sample)

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Foreword

Everyday Psychopaths is a short story collection containing three short stories with at least one psychopath in each of them. I have also included samples of my two novels, The Wake-Up Call and Hollywood Ass, since you could say that both books have an element of everyday psychopath. Depending on where you draw the line of course.

Starting off this 5-piece collection in style (gory style) is A Killer Date, my first effort to write a story in the thriller/horror genre. I read a lot of Stephen King as a young adult so this is kind of delayed. But it was worth trying and a lot of fun.

The second story is a very short one about a development talk gone wrong. I was extremely creative (doh!) in calling it The Development Talk. The story is about the main character Jasper’s nervous meeting with his psychopath manager. I think some people might recognize themselves here, but hopefully not too many.

The third story is also partly set in an office, but reaches into the land of relationships, a person’s general outlook on life and what happens when you pass that 40-year old mark and become bitter about it. The Worst/Best Day of My Life is a slightly dark, but mainly humorous story which I hope can bring a smile to your face.

The two samples I’ve included are meant to hook you on my two novels, The Wake-Up Call and Hollywood Ass. The Wake-Up Call has had over 40 000 downloads at the time of writing so although some people despise the main character too much to read on, many really like it. It doesn’t come as a huge surprise that Jack Reynolds stirs readers’ feelings as the book was written as an experiment to see if you could sympathize with an asshole if the story is told through his eyes. You might love or hate the self-centered workaholic, womanizer Jack - as long as you don’t find him uninteresting.

Hollywood Ass. is not a book about butts. Ass. is just an abbreviation for assistant and a play on words because some might argue that the main character, B, is a bit of an ass sometimes. The story is about the life of celebrity assistant Darryl Glendale and his employer, A-list actress "B". Her marriage is falling apart, her career is on the ropes and she’s close to a mental collapse and the only glue keeping her puzzle of an existence together is her loyal assistant. But what happens when he starts having feelings for her?

If you like these samples, I would be very happy if you took the time to check out Hollywood Ass. and The Wake-Up Call on my official site: http://jonaswrites.com/my-books/

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this little collection. Any feedback or help with spreading the word about my writing is, as always, much appreciated. I would also love if you join my VIP newsletter list: http://bit.ly/196X2jz This way you’ll always be the first to get updates about upcoming releases, giveaways and more.

Wishing you warm regards and happy reading,

Jonas

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A KILLER DATE

Terry loved candlelight dinners and red wine. It was a nice contrast from work and killing people. Because although he also loved killing people, it was sometimes very hard work.

He looked across the table at his date, Sheila, who looked spectacular in a shiny blue dress and pearl necklace. He adored her bun hairstyle, it was very elegant, almost too elegant to be on a head like Sheila’s.

He sipped his glass of Chateu Lafite and let the warming liquid roll around in his mouth.

You are so beautiful, I could eat you, he said.

And it was true. Her smile was as intoxicating as the wine.

And he could eat her.

Not that he had eaten lots of people in his life, he had only nibbled on some victims or torn a piece of a woman’s ear with his teeth when he got a little bit extra excited, but not eaten per se. No cutlery, no frying of body parts, no head on a plate.

Just nibbles.

But maybe different this time?

Sheila giggled like a little girl. She was happy this date, set up by her friend Fiona, was going in the right direction. Terry was a handsome man, tall, well-built, and had a cleft on his chin like Clive Owen and a generous portion of raven black hair on his head. He was eloquent and quite a gentleman too. Could this be the one? she thought to herself and couldn’t help but smile again.

You have really nice teeth, Terry said and thought they could be excellent for his collection of exquisite human body parts. He had learned that most people had at least one body part to be proud of, no matter how ugly the other parts were.

And no part was ever as ugly as what was in their brains and hearts.

Thanks, Sheila said slightly surprised, That’s the first time I hear that.

Maybe you don’t use them much, because you have such a nice figure. Terry said, generous with his remarks. He had learned how to charm a woman by now. After all, this was his 30th one. Maybe it called for a bit of extra celebration? Champagne for dessert? Or maybe just a little treat for himself when he got back to the house? He smiled at the thought. He liked treating himself to something nice now and then.

After all, that was what life was all about.

So what do you do and how did you meet Fiona?

Questions. They were inevitable and annoying, but for the moment rather easy to dodge. Still, he preferred to be the one asking.

I’m afraid it might bore you. I’m a management consultant, which means I help companies become more efficient and often downsize their organizations. It pays well, but it can be awfully dull.

You have to fire people and stuff like that?

Yeah, sometimes. It’s the worst part, but most of the time it all turns out for the best. For both sides.

In fact Terry didn’t think it was the worst part. He was excellent at getting rid of people and proud of it too.

Sounds like a tough job. Fiona was bored with the topic already. Good, thought Terry.

It’s tough sometimes, but it nets rewarding results.

You met Fiona through work then? I haven’t talked to her since she called me about this possible date and told me you’re the perfect guy.

Little did she know that Fiona was now in Terry’s basement, chopped to pieces. It was a bit funny talking about Fiona as a living person, Terry thought.

A trifle morbid.

We met at bar actually. That’s when she called you. We started talking and I complained to her how difficult it was to find a good woman and she said she had the perfect one for me. Afterwards she called you and set up this date. I don’t know her well, but she seems like a really nice person. At least she had perfect ears, Terry thought.

Oh, Fiona is more than nice, Sheila replied, she’s the best. We’ve known each other since high school and she’s one of my closest friends.

Terry had received a text to Fiona’s phone from Sheila about how nervous she was about tonight and he had sent a message on the dead girl’s behalf that she needn’t worry. It was all going to turn out just fine.

It was. In a way.

They both received their rib-eyes, Fiona’s well-done and Terry’s almost rare, with slivers of red juice seeping out of it as soon as he poked it with his fork. This got him a little bit excited, because he loved meat. Of all kinds.

He cut a perfect piece and thought how much he missed his knives at home - the ones sharp enough to cut through bone. Here he had to almost saw the meat, but he didn’t let it bother him too much. A slow process was sometimes sexier.

Sheila ate with gusto, her beautiful teeth tearing the meat apart efficiently. He watched her with a spark in his eyes and she flirted right back. Things were going well and he had no doubt in his mind she would happily follow him home after dessert.

Where there would be more red juice.

The evening progressed and since Terry had made up his mind to celebrate his 30th victim, he ordered two glasses Moet Chandon to go with the excellent Pannacetta with poached rhubarb. They toasted to the fortune of meeting each other and Terry was happy to notice a slight slur creeping into Sheila’s voice. If she could just be a little bit drunker, everything would go much more smoothly. He made an effort to toast a number of times and as soon as her glass was empty he quickly ordered a refill.

This is the best date I’ve ever been to. Sheila said, out of the blue.

Me too. Terry lied. He found Sheila too easy to be the best, as he liked a bit of resistance. Not that he had a horrible time with her, but lately he had grown more and more impatient with his victims in waiting for the grande finale.

But all good things in due time, he reminded himself.

All the guys I go out with turn out to be such assholes. I don’t know how I do it, it’s like I have some built-in need for self destruction.

More than you will ever know, thought Terry and had to force himself not to chuckle. Laughter came later.

They’re either drunks or just out for a quick lay. I think I’ve never met a guy who seems to have it all under control. Good job, nice looks, and who is also moral and kind.

Terry couldn’t help but smile at that. This was becoming rather humorous, the girl was absolutely taken by him and soon she was going to be permanently taken by him. He wished he had someone to share the irony with.

I think we all deserve to be lucky some day. I rarely meet girls who are so alive and vibrant. Most of the ones I hang around are dead boring. Mostly dead, he thought to himself. Man, was he cracking himself up tonight!

Sheila laughed and Terry joined her.

What do you say, should we go to my place for a drink? I rent a townhouse not far from here, we can drink some nice wine, listen to music and talk until you’re bored with me. Then I’ll drive you home of course.

Sounds like a great idea, Sheila said and gave him another flirtatious smile. She saw no problem in following Terry home, she simply couldn’t see how this night wasn’t going to turn out perfectly.

Terry paid and left a handsome tip, they put on their coats and headed out into the slightly chilly autumn night.

My car is parked over there, Terry said and pointed towards his spotless vintage Aston Martin.

Sheila locked arms with Terry and they started walking. Too easy, Terry thought for a second before he heard a voice.

Sheila? Sheila?

Someone was shouting her name. Terry pretended to ignore it and increased his step slightly.

Sheila? Suddenly the sound was closer, just behind them in fact. They turned around and Terry saw a young man with long hair, dressed in worn jeans and brown leather jacket. The man looked worse for wear and had a slightly drunken look in his eyes.

Hi James, Sheila said, sounding disappointed.

Hi sis, I saw you from across the street and I wanted to talk to you.

This is my brother James, Sheila said to Terry. Terry raised out his hand towards James. And this is Terry. Sheila said to James, who took Terry’s hand and shook it, awkwardly.

You think I can borrow some money? I’m heading to the pub and I’m almost broke. This was normal when it came to James, he was unemployed, drank too much and almost always broke. It hurt Sheila every time she saw him. This was not the person she had grown up with.

You have to stop drinking, James. I hate to see you like this.

Like what? James feigned ignorance.

Down and drunk. I’m your sister you know and I need you to get your act together.

Terry was becoming very annoyed at having to stand and talk to a complete lowlife when he was so close to sealing the deal on number 30. He wondered why Sheila just wouldn’t give the bum brother some money and let him go drink himself to death. People like him wasn’t worth the life they lived. Neither was Sheila though.

To stop this situation quickly he told her, I’ll give him a fifty, don’t worry about it.

This perked James ears. This dude, who looked almost like a movie star, would give him 50 quid just to drop out of sight. It could mean that he really was a rich bastard with the hots for Sheila or that he intended to rape her.

But the guy was probably just used to buying away his problems, James thought to himself.

"You don’t need to