The trophy for one of the creepiest books I’ve ever read goes to John Fowles’s The Collector.
The author created such a perfect sociopath character it’s unbelievable. The mind of a person is such a dangerous thing. Knowing what’s right and wrong is also fundamental because it’s not easy starting to collect butterflies and end up “collecting” a woman you’re obsessed with.
He just saw her as a collectible. He didn’t want to hurt her, he just wanted to have her at his place he specially bought for them and fall in love. He liked to “dominate” her tho’…but he’s a sociopath in case you forgot. She starts to pity him and every attempt to escape makes him laugh.
The story is told from their both points of view. He tells the story at first and then we find out the rest from the diary she writes and hides.
The ending is not something expected but at the same time you should’ve expected it (if you know what I mean…if not…you’ll get it if you read it).
I really recommend it. It’s not hard to read it, the plot is really simple so it won’t be difficult to follow the story and there aren’t many characters. The author concentrated a lot on their psychological nature.