[Page 1: Bright Falls]
My writer's block got worse. I didn't sleep much, anymore. My life with Alice seemed like a constant fight. I was a wreck.
Alice took steps: she booked a vacation in Bright Falls, a small town in Washington. It was supposed to be a chance to break out of the cycle I was in.
She didn't know about the darkness in Cauldron Lake.
[Page 2: Alice]
Alice. My wife. The best thing that ever happened to me. She smiles, and the darkness lifts. For her, I have tried things I otherwise never would. I've never really minded if it's made me feel like a fool.
She's a photographer, and the world she sees through her lenses is unique and beautiful. She has the vision. She sees things others don't and knows how to make them visible to everybody.
She did it with me, too; she teased out things I was only vaguely aware of. She always saw me in the best possible light
[Page 3: What Really Matters]
It's been two years since I came here. Being that long without Alice breaks my heart, and I know it broke hers. I know she thinks I'm dead. How could I blame here for that?
It would be a crime to pretend that she owes me anything. She took all the stupid, self-indulgent bullsh** I brought into her life and still stood by me, still loved me. It's no betrayal. But I'm a better person now than I used to be. I want to be that person with her.
[Page 4: The Grenadier]
The taken were always single-minded. They had a certain animal cunning, but the weren't very intelligent. That's one of the reason why they prefer melee weapons; actual firearms are too complex for them to use.
That's why seeing the one who threw grenades at me surprised me -- but of course they aren't actually grenades. There's no pin to pull, no fuse to set off an explosive. Just concentrated darkness.
[Page 5: A Car in Flight]
The car seemed to sail through the crisp mountain air in slow motion, spinning around one axis almost lazily. The moment was hypnotic.
Then it struck the pipeline in a shower of sparks, the impact turning the windshield into a burst of safety gla**. As it hit the ground, I snapped out of my reverie -- the car was rolling downhill, slowing down as every bump k**ed momentum, but still coming. The fence wouldn't be enough to stop it.
[Page 6: Survival in the Dark Place]
The Dark Place is utterly hostile to human life. It eats at your mind, wants you to succumb to madness. Your own thoughts can turn against you. Every shadow conceals a threat that attacks at the slightest sign of weakness. You're under endless a**ault; every "day" is a struggle for survival.
But I have learned to take care of myself. I focus on Alice, our life together, my need to be with her. That takes me a long way in the Dark Place... as long as I have my gun and the flashlight.
[Page 7: Equilibrium]
I have changed. I know who I am now. I know that I can write my own fate; Bright Falls taught me that. I know that indulging my weaknesses, giving in to fear and complacency will only drag me down; the Dark Place taught me that.
I'm no zen master. I have not attained enlightenment. But I have learned to let go of the things that I don't need. I know that without that balance within, I become my own worst enemy. Now I strive for equilibrium, and with that, I'm strong enough to get where I want.
[Page 8: The Doppelganger]
It's obvious that for all his power, Mr. Scratch is an agent of another, greater being. The Dark Place he came from is full of terrible alien intelligences, dark presences, and none of them should be let loose in our world. He serves one of them. He'll open the way for them if I don't stop him.
But he'll do more: he'll take over my life. He already has my face; he already uses my name. He'll become Alan Wake in every way imaginable and corrupt everything... unless I can stop him.
[Page 9: Mr Scratch's Trap]
The trap Mr. Scratch has set for me is as simple as it is impossible: whenever I reach him, he sends me back to the beginning of the maze. It's a loop in time; I go through it only to end up where I started. There's a brutal genius to it. If I die, it's over for me; if I survive, I end up where I started. Sooner or later, the odds will catch up with me, and in the meantime, he gets to toy with me...
But that's why I have a chance. He's caught in this pattern just as much as I am. I know where he'll be, and I'm prepared.
[Page 10: The Plan]
I have created the weapon that can put an end to this, a blueprint to a new reality. All I have to do is survive long enough to use it.
My arrival from the Dark Place will be painful and difficult. These pages may be lost, but one way or another, I'll send the parts I really need to myself. If I make it outside, I have a chance.
Mr. Scratch is more powerful than I am, but he can't change the rules in the middle of the game. He's not a creator. I am.
[Page 11: The Dangers of Creation]
To change the world, you must craft a blueprint for the new reality. Any work of art will do, as long as it's a genuine act of creation; that's what the energies of the Dark Place respond to. The results may be subtle and perplexing, or far-ranging and momentous.
My area of expertise -- the written word -- gives much more precise results than music or interpretive dance would, for instance.
But words can be extremely dangerous. What you define may become reality, but so can that which you imply... Even if you don't realize you're doing so.
[Page 12: Serena Valdivia]
For Serena Valdivia, burning the midnight oil was more of an exception than a rule. A procrastinator and a perfectionist, she often worked when she wouldn't be disturbed.
Tonight was especially important: the film festival would open tomorrow, and there was still so much to sort out. It wasn't that the work hadn't been done; she just didn't feel like she had completely mastered everything yet.
[Page 13: Focusing the Beam]
There's more to fighting the Taken than just burning away the darkness that protects them. When I'm fighting for my life, I find myself slipping into a state of intense concentration that makes the beam of my flashlight seem more powerful and focused. I used to think it was just my imagination, something brought on by the adrenaline and fear of d**h, but now I'm not so sure. I have been touched by powers that I can't begin to truly comprehend, and they've left a mark. I'm starting to think this might be a part of it.
[Page 14: Serena and Mr. Scratch]
When the dark man's eyes suddenly locked into Serena's, she flushed hot. They ignited a black fire in her.
He was talking: he wanted the power turned off. He said something about the projector booth. She hooked a finger under his belt buckle. He grabbed a hold of her throat and twisted until it hurt. Somewhere deep inside, a part of her screamed in paralyzed horror, but the moan that escaped from her throat had no panic in it.
"Pay attention," he said. "Business first." His eyes glittered shamelessly. Hers did, too.
[Page 15: The Clothes]
The clothes I wear now I shaped from dreams and memories. It's an old outfit, originally from the 90's; the last time I wore it was when I was still writing, and Alice and I took a vacation in the desert, before our troubles began.
The night before, we'd been at a party, and I'd dressed to the nines. On that lazy day, I put on these old clothes, worn and comfortable. Alice made a joke about grunge. I felt a little embarra**ed, but stuck with them.
We were very happy. I'm sheathed in good memories, to remind myself of what is at stake.
[Page 16: Alice's Film]
I held the film canister in my hands. I saw her name written across it in big letters, followed by the title.
It was a time capsule, moments snatched from times gone by, from a past that I hoped could also be our future. It was my salvation -- our salvation, our chance to be together. A tin can with a bit of magic in it that she didn't even know about, something I could put to good use.
There were only moments left before I had to face him.