Fear has a scent, and narcissists breathe it in like oxygen. I’m talking about psychopathic narcissists who thrive on it—not just thrive, they crave it. They drink, savor, and feel it ignite something deep inside them. It’s no accident that their presence feels like walking into a lion’s den. They are evil predators, and your fear is their feast.
You can feel it when they enter the room—the sharp shift in energy, the sudden awareness that every move you make is being dissected, analyzed, and tasted. They do not just see your fear; they smell it, like a wolf catching the scent of blood. It excites them; it calls to them. There’s a primal hunger within them to taste the power they hold over you, to feel your terror ripple through the air and tighten your throat.
It’s not enough that you suffer; they want you to know you are suffering because of them. They want you to recognize their power in your trembling. Narcissists don’t just like fear; they craft and manufacture it. They build it into the environment. Like architects of terror, they design every room you step into, every conversation, every silence, to echo their control.
It’s not enough for them to win; they need to see you defeated. They want to watch you shrink—your shaking hands, your lowered eyes, the stammer in your speech. These are the trophies these demons collect. I know this kind of fear because I grew up in it. My grandfather was a malignant psychopathic narcissist. His weapon was not loud or obvious; it was a look, a single stare that could freeze your soul. He didn’t have to speak to terrify us. One cold glance, and we would lock up inside, shut down, fall silent. That look wasn’t just control; it was domination. It was his way of telling us that our fear fed him, and we knew it.
We learned to hold our breath when he entered a room, to avoid his eyes, to pray we wouldn’t be the one who triggered that deadly stare. The threat was unspoken, but it hung over us like a storm waiting to strike. My father took it to another level because he is also a narcissist. He didn’t just weaponize fear; he relished it.
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