Coding Error [OFF x Reader]

1. Intruder

[EDIT: 22/MAY/22]- Rewrote the intro for better context-Added pixelart of how the bedroom looks like

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Despite the hardships of college and part time job thrown at you all week, there's nothing like unwinding on a friday night.

You gingerly reach your tiny apartment with a jump in your walk, locking the door behind you as you prepare your evening routine. Warming up a kettle on a tiny but effective electric stove, switching your ordinary clothes for a pair of comfy pajamas, and dropping your backpack to a spare room that once belonged to an ex-roommate, now refurnished into a work space... or gaming space. Most people would go out and have fun tonight but the number of sticky notes scattered around your desk told you otherwise. This specific project has been absorbing your attention for a month now, you'd cancel lunch meetings with friends (who are probably as overworked as you are anyway) and been drinking so much caffeine you're pretty sure it's part of your bloodstream already.

"Show time," you plop down on your squeaky desk chair, flexing your fingers before turning on the pc.

It's amazing how absorbed you become in your own work, typing the final script lines before dragging your cursor to the preview option. Childishly crossing your fingers for good luck "Let's see if I can do this without depending on my notes." you childishly cross your fingers together for good luck, but maybe a rabbit foot would've been more effective.

ERROR!!!

A word you've been dreading and partially expecting at this point. The warning flashed on your screen with it blaring colors and excessive exclamation marks. Your forehead thumps against the desk table as you shut your eyes, groaning in annoyance at another failure.

You clench and unclench your fist, resting your check on the harden surface as your eyes trail to your backpack sludged on the floor, carelessly spilling out your notebook. The expression on your face is indecisive, reluctant, before eventually giving up and accept defeat by retrieving one of the recent notebooks scribbled with class notes, skimming through the pages to compare it to your work on screen. "Arg! I missed another diagonal line right there.. okay it's just one mistake surely it won't affect..." your jaw fell open at the jumbling mess that a single mistake created.

You shut the notebook and toss it on the desk. "I need a break." is the most sensible thing you've said to yourself all day. "But not any break, just something that won't take too much of my time... like one of those simple indie games." you reassure yourself out loud. Another person would worry about your mental state cause you talk to yourself but you insist it's easier to pretend you're a protagonist talking to the audience, like something out of the Truman Show.

By the time you pick whatever game you heard from a 'Top 5 indie horror games' video on YouTube, your kettle started hissing. You rush to turn it off prevent it from evaporating, using the now heated water for whatever you're in the mood for, tea, coffee, instant noodles, you're alone and free for the night. Go wild. While you're preparing your beverage you could've sworn you heard a high frequency noise, at first you think it's a mosquito but it's unlikely due to the season. I mean, it sounds more like static. That wasn't the last time you heard it, you're brushing your teeth when the noise came back and lingered long enough for you to follow it. It led you to your work room, which is odd because you turned off everything half an hour ago, still, you're cautious enough to double check your electronics just to make sure. Even after all that searching, there wasn't anything out of place. Easily shrugging it off as a product of your imagination. After getting rid of all that foam in your mouth you head to bed without falling asleep automatically, you lay there peering into the dark ceiling as the street lights sneak past the single sheet you use as a curtain.

If only spring break was right around the corner, that way everyday would feel like a weekend. But such vacation was still a month away. You groan, tossing a blanket over your head, mentally counting sheep before falling in slumber.

"I gotta get up for school-" is always the first thing that comes to mind when you wake up even though it's the weekend. You open your eyes to find yourself under your mountain of blankets, surprised you didn't die of dehydration. So far so good, but the second you stretched a hand towards your night table to grab your phone, you paused, hearing footsteps echo through your room. If you had a roommate this wouldn't be a huge deal, but you live alone without any family members nearby to pay you unsuspecting visits. You pull your hand back into the covers pretending you're still sleeping despite the growing panic clawing at your chest. A robber maybe? It's impossible to get a good view from beneath all these blankets and sheets, but the looming shadow walking past you is still intimidating in a way. The odd figure walked past you and headed for your closet. You carefully slid off the opposite side of your bed without making a noise, tucking your hand under your bed to grab a baseball bat you're thankful for keeping.

While the man rummages through your closet, you slowly tiptoe behind the stranger getting close enough to raise the bat and knock the man over the head with as much strength you can muster. The strike emits a grotesque snap as it makes contact with the man's skull, but he didn't go down easily. Either he's tough enough to handle a blow without flinching or you're too weak to confront him, both options are absolutely terrifying as the man turns around to face you. He lacks any pigment in his body, not only his clothes but also his skin, the only reason you know he might be of this world is due to the red oozing from his forehead. The stranger lungs at you, tugging the baseball bat from your meek hands but you resist, nothing a kick to the gut made you reconsider as you cower away in fear. The stranger's stance is something you've only glimpsed at professional players, but this is no ball game with the bat raised over his shoulder ready to beat you to death...

Until.

He stops.

He will stop this instance.

It's like he's stuck in a daze, reading something over your head before gasping in surprise. His stiff shoulders loosen up, your ear straining when he dropped the baseball bat calling out your name in a tone only close friends would use. "It's you, it's really you..." his stern voice reaches your ears. "Yes, there no doubt about it, it's you. My trustworthy puppeteer." he spoke confident, evenly fondly at you.

While the stranger was reciting some reunion bs from a novel you're too busy freaking out to make sense of his words. "What are you talking about? How do you know my name!? Who are you!?" you demand answers.

"It's me, your puppet." he kneels down, extending a bloodied hand to help you up.

Once the fear and the adrenaline rush clear out from your system did you finally use your brain to connect the dots. the conclusion you came to was bizarre, for all you know a madman broke in your house, but somehow, deep inside you knew who this is. The color palette, the stern expression, the outfit and even his familiarity with the baseball bat. "Y-you're..." you swallow roughly. Unable to even finish the sentence due to how bizarre it sounded. "...You're The Batter."