Note: I did not write this pasta and I am in no way taking credit for writing it.
There was once a guy living in our neighborhood named Jimmy, He got picked on a lot for being a confident and funny guy, his mouth tended to get him into a lot of trouble and he seldom learned his lesson. He was just very content with who he was and refused to change it. When people asked him why he let them wail on him for his blunt comedy and wisecracks, he'd smirk and say, "Honesty is the best policy, at least they're not hiding anything from me and neither am I from them."
One of the kids he inadvertently pissed off with a rather crude MILF joke was something of a psychopath with a sadistic streak who didn't take kindly to the insult. So he rounded up the other guys who didn't like Jimmy and they cornered him after school in the science room.
"Your mouth got you into this... I want you to remember that." Brett, the ringleader, told him as he looked into Jimmy's terrified eyes.
They grabbed some formic acid stored in the lab and threw it in his face. They stood around watched him scream in agony as it ate through his flesh before sniggering and running out, pretending to be concerned and wanting help for him.
When the paramedics arrived and were attending to Jimmy (who was no longer able to scream), the principal asked the boys if they knew what had happened. Their leader Brett explained they were walking past when they saw Jimmy skulking around the lab room, by the time they got in there, he was already in that state. The other members joined in and backed Brett up with other fake details as Jimmy tried to protest in silent agony. The principal nodded and told them he would speak to them after he had a word with Jimmy and got his side of the story after he was out of hospital.
A few days passed and Jimmy was kept in ICU with bandages on his face, the doctors salvaging what little they could of his face, his vision still intact in one eye and his jaw withstanding despite the loss of flesh. He was still unable to speak and refused to respond to anyone. He just sat there, eyes unblinking & staring at the ceiling, bloodshot and filled with animosity. When he was discharged sometime later, he would not respond to anyone with anything other than the word "LIARS." His social life gone, unable to smile or even crack a joke anymore, he secluded himself in his room and began planning. Sick vindictive thoughts started appearing in his mind, he would get them all one by one, decimate them, slice them, burn them. He waited patiently until the group would be vulnerable, late at night when they said their goodbyes and went home separately. That's when he would strike.
That weekend, Brett received a package in the mail. Curiously, he opened it to find a VHS tape with the words "For You" etched crudely onto the front. He put it in and played it.
It was a crudely recorded home video by an unknown camera man who didn't speak at all for the duration of the film. It began with the camera pointing at the date on a newspaper, it was yesterday. As he zoomed out, you could see it was in a basement, a single flickering light bulb hanging above and casting an uncomfortable scene. By the time he'd completely zoomed out, it was apparent this was no normal video. In front of the cameraman & on his hands knees was one of Brett's friends. He was naked, a dirty blindfold around his face and a crude gag in his mouth. He was covered in blood, horrific burns, lacerations and wounds. One particularly large one on his back stood out that almost looked like a word....
The cameraman, with gloved hands, took the gag out of the crying boy's mouth and immediately he begged to go home.
"Please, PLEASE let me go man....I...I did what you wanted! Oh god...Jesse, Mike, Keith....you made me fucking butcher them! I just wanna go home man....Please....I'm sorry guys....I'm so...so sorry...."
He just kept repeating it over and over, rocking back and forth as he did so.
Brett's legs began to shake and he felt the bile rise in his stomach, he could see the burned, mangled bodies in the background. The bodies of his friends. All of them had markings on their body in deep, large cuts.
The cameraman reached out for the boy's chin and lifted it up, encouraging him to stand. He did so obediently as he was slowly led to a door off screen, whimpering. Brett could see what had been cut into his friend's back now. It was the word "LIAR". The camera cut out temporarily.
When it restarted again, they were no longer inside. They were instead out in the cold snow on the outskirts of the woods and it didn't appear to be the original man holding the camera anymore. It was Brett's friend. He was whimpering and shivering as he held the camera in one place for 30 seconds, pointing at some trees in the distance, hearing footsteps draw ever nearer.
"WHERE ARE YOU MAN? YOU SAID I COULD GO MAN! YOU SAID I COULD GO!"
The boy was screaming and crying, frightened out of his mind as the sound of crunching snow drew nearer from seemingly every angle.
He turned around to see the mangled face of Jimmy; a horrifying howl blared through the speakers and the word "LIARS" appeared before the tape abruptly stopped.
Brett felt faint and darted to lock the front door, knowing what was coming. As he turned to run for it, he immediately hit something and fell backwards.
The last thing he ever heard was "LIARS" as acid ran down his face and began to slowly eat away at his flesh.
The last thing he ever saw was Jimmy's face, contorting into a sick, twisted smile.