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Alan Wake's Timeless Nostalgia

Novel By: Aaron Thorne
Mystery and crime

(Based on the widely popular and Xbox 360 exclusive video game, "Alan Wake.")

Alan Wake, an award-winning author and former writer for the TV show "Night Springs," is now tortured by his own mind. He's trapped in the dark place that revolves around a novel that Wake can't remember writing. His physical, emotional, and psychological strength have all been put to the test in the past as Wake is forced to live through his own nightmares in order to return to reality. But, what happens when Alan Wake must relive a nightmare he can't remember because it happened so long ago? View table of contents...


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Submitted:Mar 17, 2013    Reads: 17    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   

His eyes shot open as Alan Wake inhaled only to be greeted with a mouthful of salt water. He was surrounded by the foggy liquid and needed to escape before his lungs gave out in the dense pressure. He swam towards the light that seemed to do nothing but push him away. Whatever the light was, it kept running away and had no intentions to being caught. The light grew farther and farther away as his lungs became closer and closer to collapsing beneath the surface. The source of the repel began to grow dimmer and dimmer when Wake realized that, in fact, his eyes were shutting as he slowly drifted out of conscientiousness. His jeans and thick winter coat pulled his motionless carcass to the bottom of the body of water until Wake felt nothing but the dark presence around him.

His eyes shot open as Alan Wake inhaled only to be greeted with a mouthful of chlorinated water. He was inexplicably surrounded by it and could identify a bright light directly above him. His natural impulse was to swim toward the light, but he felt a since of deja vu. Regardless, his only chance of survival was shining above him. Wake began to push himself assured that the light would only grow farther away. Shockingly, he found himself above the surface, but the light had transformed itself into a deep darkness. He looked around dumbfounded and amazed at the immense blackness of night. He shuffled his foot slightly to his right and identified what felt like a bottom step. Good. Now he could leave wherever he was and find his way home or at least to some source of light.

Wake, watching his feet, slowly climbed the four stairs that led out of the pool, holding onto the rail as dripping water loudly foiled his attempt at a silent exit. As he made a final step up out of the pool, a child's scream could be heard followed by a square of light directly above him suddenly flashing on. It was then clear to the award-winning writer, Alan Wake, where he was. He'd been intruding in someone's back yard. But how did he get there?

He looked up and could see a small boy in his room. Screaming and crying. A woman, who appeared to be the boy's mother, ran into the room as the small boy pointed out the window and directly at Alan. In the spotlight of the window above, Wake was in plain sight. He dashed against the wall beneath the boy's window and out of what he once called a "safe haven." Light was no longer an ally and Wake, for the first time, was truly alone.

After a few moments in hiding from the light, it clicked off. This was his chance to leave. Get out of whomever's home he was outside of. To regroup and figure out what exactly he needed to do next. He looked up from the spot where the light was shining, let out a sigh of relief, and unglued himself from the wall. He was safe now. Or so it appeared. What looked like the powerful headlights of a large truck blinded the novelist.

"Alan..."The voice of a man came from the bright light. "Alan. Alan Wake."

Wake was paralyzed with fear at the sight that, had he been anyone else, wouldn't have believed himself. "What do you want from me?" Wake screamed at the light. He dropped to his knees out of sheer desperation and willingness to do anything in order to leave the dark place that has imprisoned him for so long.

"He is Alan Wake. He is the writer." The light responded in the same monotonous and level-headed tone he had spoken in before.

Alan again yelled at the light. "What are you talking about?" He rose to his feet. "I am Alan Wake!"

"He wrote your story, Wake. He wrote it long ago. He's writing it as we speak." The light, echoing itself after each work he spoke, began sounding like some sort of riddler and it only further pissed Alan off.

"You think this is a game?" Alan shouted louder than ever before. "You think this is just some made up story? This is real! This is my life you're messing with!"

The light repeated itself. "He is Alan Wake..."

"Who is Alan Wake?!" the real Alan Wake asked sick of trying to solve the riddle in his own tired head.

The light dimmed and, slowly, the backyard of the mysterious family's house began returning to the dark state it was in when Alan first emerged from the water. Just before the last speck of the light evaporated, the voice provided a final clue. "The boy..."


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