As you know, people are appliances to me. They are there to serve my narcissism and my psychopathy. With regard to my narcissism, they must be controlled. In certain instances I will draw fuel from those people. In some instances, acquire character traits and residual benefits. From the perspective of my psychopathy, again, people must be controlled. They are there to stimulate me.. They are there to be accumulated. People are playthings. But there are occasions whereby people are deemed to be an asset. And since they are an extension of me, an extension of the Empire State of Tudor, There will be circumstances where I deem that an attack upon them is an attack upon me and therefore necessitates defence. To demonstrate this point, I thought I would share with you a story from a number of years ago to exhibit various facets of my psychopathy and aspects of my narcissism with regard to the act of defence.
You see, as a psychopath, I’m not the crude, knife-wielding caricature of popular imagination. What I am is a refined predator, a master of the human psyche, cloaked in charm, and armed with an intellect that dissects the world with surgical precision. My mind is a fortress, unencumbered by the frailties of empathy or fear, and on this particular night I was sat in the amber glow of a rooftop bar in a glittering cosmopolitan city. I was in my element. The skyline sparkled like a trophy case of my conquests, each light a testament to my control, my power, my supremacy. Beside me sat my girlfriend at the time, Tabitha, a vision of curated elegance, her blonde hair catching the city’s neon pulse, her laughter, a delicate chime that drew envious glances from lesser men. She was, that current prize, a mirror to reflect my grandeur, a canvas for my artistry. She sat sipping her martini, unaware of the currents of calculation that swirled beneath my polished exterior. I think it was fair to say that at that moment in time I was close to as contentment as my kind can ever be, for I basked in the fuel of her adoration, and also relished the envious stares of others in the room but those were just the icing on the cake of what had occurred earlier that day and in the week. But as is always the case, contentment is fleeting, and on that occasion the night was about to deliver a challenge, a challenge to my supremacy, a challenge to my possession.
It was a group of loud-mouthed aggressive men. The bar is a crucible of human weakness. Laughter too loud and intrusive. Egos, too fragile. Desires, too transparent. Yet, I would dismiss all of that as I sat at a high table, my tailored suit a silent declaration of superiority, my gaze silently scanning the room, assessing prey. Tabitha was recounting some trivial anecdote, her words just a pleasant hum, but my attention shifted as a raucous burst of laughter erupted from a corner table. Five men, in their mid-thirties, dressed in the garish confidence of those who mistake volume for authority.
Their leader, let’s call him Alpha, for he fancies himself as such, is a broad-shouldered brute with a shaved head and a voice that carries like a fog-horn. He has a wingman, who I’ve been watching, I’ll call him Beta. He is leaner, wiry, and carries a smirk that suggests that he fancies himself the clever one of the group. The other three are simply followers, their laughter a sycophantic echo, their poise, their postures submissive to the Alpha´s dominance of that particular group. As I’ve been listening to Tabitha, I’ve been observing them as I take in so much from around the room and note that this group are close to drunkenness their gestures are expansive, their eyes darting with the restless energy of men seeking trouble. I watch as the Alpha’s gaze landed on Tabitha and it lingered too long. I watched as his lips curled into a leer that betrayed his intent. I felt no jealousy. Whilst it is an emotion that I experience, it was not something that prevailed at that moment, but I did recognise that his look, his leer, was a challenge to my control, a sleight to my image. He exacerbated this by pointing towards Tabitha and then saying something inaudible to me, to his group. Whatever it was that he said caused the laughter to spike, creating a crude symphony of what was clear mockery. Tabitha picked up on the response also, for I noted that her body stiffened, her hand tightening on her glass. My appliance was being threatened, and thus so was I. I placed a hand upon hers. It gave her the reassurance that she sought. My smile, the blade that was sheathed in velvet.
“Do not concern yourself, darling,” I murmured, my voice low and soothing,a calculated balm to her unease. They are beneath us. I decided that dismissing them was the most appropriate way of dealing with them, and in order to protect my asset to encourage her to do the same. However, this initial response proved to be unfruitful, for the group are not content to remain in their corner. I watched as the Alpha rose, his movements deliberate, as he sought to test the waters also, and he was followed by Beta, the other three trailing behind, their confidence clearly bolstered by numbers and alcohol. I did not shift, but watched them, my gaze steady, as they walked across the room and approached our table, the Alpha’s bulk casting a shadow across the polished wood. The air shifted. It was now charged with the primal tension of impending conflict. Their movement towards us sparked a sensation of power within me, but it was not loose power, but rather that which had been harnessed. I felt the anticipation coursing through me.
My mind already began to film the situation and considered what might follow. Would I continue to ignore them, revelling in their irritation, provoking them further, wanting to jibe them towards making an attack that they would regret? Would I strike first, dealing a blow to one of them with the expectation that the others would scatter under this show of force and supremacy?
Would I engage with them with wit and humour, perhaps making new friends after all? Might these individuals prove to be of use to me? What I did know, that as I saw the flicker of unease in Tabitha’s eyes that my cold engine mind making all of his analyses recognized that the most important factor here was to defend my asset, to defend Tabitha.