 The floor may not be a robot. First of all, I just want to tell you not to be thrown off by the title of this creepypasta. It sounds stupid, I know, but it was a genuine error sign that I received that I will explain in this story. Also, this is not about some haunted demon-infested game, a rum-heck, or a lost beta disc. This is simply about a coder that took too much pride in his work to handle someone tampering with his masterpiece. At least, that's my assumption. That said, let me tell about this story. It was mid-August a few years back, and I was at my grandparents. They said that they would give me their bad windows just a laptop. I already had a decent PC, but going into the 8th grade, I thought I might need a laptop for school. At this point I should say that I'm a massive fan of video games. You named it, I've played it. Although there was one crown jewel that topped off my massive Steam collection. Team Fortress 2. I'll admit it, I'm a massive fanboy. I still am. At that time, I was about 300 hours into the game, and just started to tamper with the developer console. I was considering a career in programming, so I thought this was a decent start. I was so bummed out that I couldn't play TF2 on my grandparents' laptop. All I wanted to do was mess with the console some more. However, I learned that I was staying for a few nights, and that my older cousin was coming tomorrow, so I might be able to play TF2 on his computer if he was bringing it. I was staying up late on this horrible computer that I will now refer to as the trash box. I fell asleep still looking at Facebook friend requests from people I despised. I woke up to a loud knocking at the front door. My cousin was at the door, grinning. He had an expensive looking laptop clutched under one arm and had a Timmy's bag in his other hand. I knew that we would be playing some video games. I asked him if he still played TF2. I hadn't played it with him in a while, and assumed he just went over to something like CSGO. He said that he still played it and that he apparently went to my house to pick up my PC. A bit strange, but I didn't care. His mom walked in with my computer tower and monitor. Then she went back to her car to get the speakers. We spent no time dicking around and set up the PC as fast as we could. I didn't care that I hadn't eaten. I was going to show him my new favorite toy. We set up a LAN network and screwed around for a few hours. We were having so much fun with the game, we didn't even notice that another player had joined. After a few minutes, we realized that there was another person on the server. It wasn't a bot. He had a real ping. We freaked out. We checked the status and found out that it was no longer a LAN network. It was a real server. How did this by bypass our LAN? I was certain there was just ourselves and my grandparents in the house, right? Shocked, I checked the connections and found that there was a new connection in the internet. It was a new PC. The name was, it was my game, all capital letters and no spaces. That was it. We ran straight downstairs and remembering that my grandfather was a gun buff, went to the gun cabinet. Grandpa was looking at his handguns. We shouted a quick, there is someone in the house, making him promptly take a look at us as he unlocked the gun cabinet and pulled out a compaction shotgun. He ran upstairs and commanded us to stay here. We obeyed of course. We stayed there for about 10 minutes before he came back down, explaining there was no one there. We sighed with relief. We went back to the computers and noticed that there were plethora of people who had joined the game. They all had sadistic names like Throat Ripper and I killed them all. We went back to using the console commands, trolling everyone who had joined so that they could leave and we could have our phone. It was about two hours later that my game had started glitching. Bad lag, textures not loading, that kind of thing. As the game went on, these effects got more severe. The frames per second had dropped to about 15, and suddenly my game crashed. The error message read, you guessed it, hl2.exe has seen your mistakes. That freaked me out to an insane level. The paragraph under it simply read, you will play my game as I wish. If you ruin my game again, I will ruin you. And, boy, did I lose it. Thankfully my cousin was there to help me keep my composure. I decided to find out why the computer was lagging, so I booted up the task manager. I couldn't control what would happen next. Every single file I ever downloaded was being opened at once. They were being routed through, sent to whoever this asshole was. Every byte. I couldn't stop. I drove my fist straight through the screen. I kicked my tower until it broke open. I took my breath as I smashed the hard drive against the floor. Fuck it. Someone else already has it. It's useless to me. That was about three years ago if I'm correct, and I've since gotten a new computer. I got back into TF2, and even a get of the console. He thinks he can ruin me. I am prepared this time. If he tries to ruin me, I'll ruin him first. I found a person on my server with the same username as the person who tried to hack me. I went into town, bought a barrette and here I am, writing this now. I am waiting for him. I see him on my connections list now. I might update tomorrow. If I don't, then this is the last thing I will ever write. I can hear footsteps now. Goodbye, and wish me luck.