• Published 3rd Nov 2012
  • 1,231 Views, 182 Comments

The Psychopath Interviews - The Psychopath



The Psychopath interrogates the characters of people on this site

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A skippee

(The character here is from Art Inspired)

This interview was happening within Bone Peak. Contrary to its name, this fine and “soothing” area is actually a very thick forest filled with white trees and greyish grass. This same grass produces a dense fog which obscures all sight, be it in front, far away, or very close. This forest was named such as it is situated high in the mountains, but is still a very wide forest nonetheless. One of the trees began to bend and twirl until it turned into a door. A small light above it constantly flickered on and off, going higher as it did. With a loud “ding”, The Psychopath walked out, wearing a business suit, glasses, and fake, gigantic eyebrows. He sat on a patch of grass and looked at his papers.

“Ah. Here’s a new guest. Who is it?” he spoke with a deep, nasally voice.

Through the haze, our interviewer could just barely detect a unicorn, slowly trotting towards the area. everything about his aura told our host this wasn’t a normal guest. His jet black mane tied back into a medium sized, slim line. The coat he donnes was roughly worn with small tints of dirt upon the grey pigmentation. Those eyes stared deep into the colorful stallion and spoke dark thoughts, mainly ones of cruel, mental schemes.

Finally arriving to stand in front of The Psycho, his guest asked, “So, what’s all this about?” his voice was deep, almost enchanting with the depth it took.

Psycho threw off his costume, which, somehow, turned into a giant coconut that started to fly away with screeching. “I am The Psychopath, and I’m here to interview you and learn more about you.” he said with a grin and a bow.

The guest snickered, bowed back and ruffled his hooves in the dirt. Looking back at this plotter of possible evil, he explained, “Well, I’m not good with interviews, but... for a certain... infamous one like yourself, I can, of course, oblige. my name is Art... just Art.”

Psycho suddenly appeared smug, with his muzzle unusually large, allowing one to see within the nostrils...as gross as that was.

“Not...modern art, I hope?” he spoke, looking down upon Art.

“Oh, no... More... how should I put it...? Unique and, for the most part, disturbing to others, hehe.

Psycho returned to his normal self, with a wide smile, and floating gently in the air. He spoke with a sly undertone:”Do you have family? Like brothers, sisters, something?”

Art simply cleared his throat, looked around and contemplated upon his reply. “Well, actually, yes... but they’re very far away. I haven’t seen them for... my alicorn, ages, at least... Anyways, family ties are pointless in this world, right?!”

“You sir, insult me.” Psycho slapped art with a glove that was of no apparent use to him.”Of COURSE it’s useful! Why, without me, what would have happened to Tia-Tia and Woona? I was somewhat of their only family.”Psycho grinned.”In my world. Why do you not like families?”

Rubbing his blistered cheek, Art giggled at the sting. Pain, to him, seemed pleasurable. Chuckling at the reaction of his host, Art adjusted his frame and returned his pleased gaze at The Psychopath and uttered, “Because... they never really showed me kindness, or worried about my well being. That’s why I’ve never cared about such a thing like family.” the last word was muttered like it was a curse upon his mind.

“Hmmm. Well, thinking of it like that...I would understand, but I don’t want to. Hmhmhaaaa!” Psycho started to hop on the branches, then hung upside down on another.”What about their names? Do you remember their names?”

“They were known as Modern Day and Black Sight. Modern, my mother was always trying to be... more clingy about me, but in the end, she merely used me like some sort of child slave. Day in and day out, they just sat back and observed my tortured life as I bid to their every request... and demand!”

Psycho grimaced, one of the few moments he ever did so.

“I see. I have several vials in my hat that could help you with such things...but I guess it’s too late. Where do you live now?” Psycho shook his head, with the sound of glass chittering against each other coming from his hat.

Art pointed his horn upwards, flickering the dull, grey light of enchantment on the trees and revealed his home atop the distant mountains. “The very summit, where the snow rages. Having a cold heart, and mind, I find it necessary to live in harsh environments like that to match my ways.” The puff of leaves were put back in their original position, blocking the sight of Art’s jagged, but gorgeous domain.

Psycho, with a bland face but with widened eyes, suddenly held out a red vial. It was bubbling at the thin opening.”You seem a bit cold.”

“As I like it. Heat never suited my likings.”

Psycho tripped a bit as he stood, dropping a teeny drop on the floor. Said drop melted through the ground with a little trail of smoke.”Hmm. Ten skull tabasco sauce seems mild. What else be there...do you have any powers?”

The grey unicorn scoffed at the burnt gravel, stared at his lunatic host and said, “Devilish concoction you have, and yes. my powers of archan skills are... impressive in my personal opinion.” the being began to form a sinister smile, still gazing at the psycho like the mixture that was sure to kill him was nothing more than a child’s prank.

Psycho just drank his tabasco sauce like soda.

“Mmm. Sour.” he tossed the vial into the background, which managed to trigger a rather large explosion. Psycho didn’t budge.”Hm. Note to self, use less gunpowder in sauce. Do you have a full backstory, or is it just about your mother?”

“Do you want my life story, or just certain details about my personal experiences?”

“Omnomnom...How about certain experiences you find are the most interesting, like when I got a griffin diplomat to join the Illogic. Whowee. That was fun!”

Wind rustled Art’s mane, trickling it to the side. His head bowed slightly, shielding his eyes in shadows while The Psycho sensed his remembrances. “Once... a dragon invaded my home... He looked a lot like some... demon from hell itself... not normal, something that was spawned from the darkness. He was in search of a home, my home... my sanctuary. I had no choice but to attack, to defend the only land that is suitable for me. In the end, I won, yes... but the devastation on my grounds was devastating. I had to spend... bare minimum, five years...? rebuilding and tending to the place I considered my area... even now, I feel cramped... pressured by the warmth of these woods.”

Psycho seemed to have put on a plumber suit.

“Awww. That is-a so sad. Why not-a have lots of spaghetti? Is-a very warm.”

“Warmth is like cancer to me, Mr.Psycho. I prefer the harsh, unforgiving snow than anything else.”

Psycho turned back around, then calmly took hi flamethrower off his back and kicked it back into his hat.

“Is there anything else you wish to share?”

Art shrugged and asked, “Well, there’s nothing much else, is there, unless you wish to discuss something like... oh, I don’t know, the downfall of this world in approximately fifty-nine days, then no... not much else, hehe.”

Psycho shrugged and smiled. “Who cares? I’ve gone to many dimensions before. The Illogic has no limits. Now you are done?” the colorful stallion showed a glint in his eye as his smile widened.

Art stretched his left hoof and claimed, “Basically, yes.” Putting it down, he finished, “I appreciate the time we’ve had to talk, my friend.”

The Psychopath now had the costume of...an American football player?

“Then back to your house! HUT!” he yelled as he smashed into Art, casting the stallion back to his house.”YEAAAAAH! Now to get out of here.” The colorful psycho stallion started to swing on the trees from branch to branch, and claimed:”I am a gazelle. Neigh.” he spoke with a straight face.