Welcome To Bright Falls ~ Prologue
Hello readers, this story is based on the game Alan Wake. But i have one question to ask you, is this copyright? If it is, please tell me so i don't have any problems with this website.
Prologue
Stephen King once wrote that "Nightmares exist outside logic, and there's little fun to be had in explanations; they're antithetical to the poetry of fear." In a horror story, the victim keeps asking "why?" But there can be no explanation, and there shouldn't be one. The unanswered mystery is what stays with us the longest, and it's what we'll remember in the end. My name is Alan Wake. I'm a writer.
I've always had a vivid imagination, but this dream unsettled me. It was wild and dark and weird even by my standards. So yes, it began with a dream. Following a typical nightmare pattern, I was late, desperately trying to reach my destination - - a lighthouse - for some urgent reason I couldn't remember. I'd been driving too fast down a coastal road to get there. The next thing I knew, I hit something. I had gone out of the car to see what I just hit, it was a man, a hitchhiker. I bent down my knees to feel if there was any sign of life, I couldn't feel any, he was dead. I was convinced they'd put me to jail, and I would never see Alice again.
Then, my car's headlights went out. I looked back at the headlights, but I ignored it, then as I looked back where the hitchhiker was laying, dead and lifeless, he disappeared. I was shocked, I placed my hands around where he was laying, feeling around as if I may find a hole, I thought it was some kind of insurance scam fake out, something. But there was nothing, just the cold pavement, from the gloomy cool night air. I stood, my knees were shaking, so I looked around and I pushed my car to the side of the road. It was a write-off. So then I started walking towards the lighthouse in the near distance, trying to stay upright to stay steady. Then the man came into my mind again. I started arguing with myself, The man had been there, I hit him, killed him. So where's the damn body? I turned back. My car is still there though, water leaking onto the pavement. So as I looked up ahead, I saw a streetlight lid up a wooden, pedestrian walkway that wounds its way to the lighthouse. I still wasn't sure what I was going to say to the police when I report the accident. Then as I walked under the streetlight, It exploded on me. Son of a!! I thought, covering my head as tiny bits of broken glass drifted down around me like snow. As the snow of broken glass fell around me, I looked back again to my car, I froze to the spot.
The hitchhiker was there. Standing in front of my vehicle, covered in blood and shadows. And he had something in his hand, an ax. He strode towards me. I wanted to run away but I couldn't move my body, then the streetlights farther down the hill exploded, then another, and another still. And then, the next thing I knew, he appeared right in front of me.
The hitchhiker stared at me and turned his head. Then his head sprung back up and said, "You don't even recognize me, do you writer?" said the hitchhiker, disgusted. "You think you're god? You think you can just make up stuff? Play people's lives and kill them when it adds to the drama?!" He hefted the ax, his clothes spotted with gore. I was able to move my body again, and started stepping back away from the ax maniac. "Where are you going? You're in this story now, and I'll make you suffer!" The hitchhiker threw the ax at me, and at the split- second, I was able to dodge the attack and ran away as fast as I can. "You 'll never going to publish anymore of those shitty stories, 'cause I'm gonna kill you!"yelled the hitchhiker. I looked back, and the hitchhiker was gone. But I didn't care, I kept on sprinting, my feet pounding on the wooden walkway, but I knew that the man was still following me, because all the streetlights kept exploding on me. I saw the pathway to the lighthouse, it wasn't to far away, but as I was about to run towards it, the hitchhiker appeared in front of me from out of the shadows. "Damn it" said Wake. "What's your hurry?" mocked the hitchhiker, coming after him. "I thought you liked horror stories." Wake kept running, his footsteps drumming on the wooden slats, the lighthouse was a beacon in the night.
"What kind of writer are you?!" called the hitchhiker
The planks in the walkway were cracked and weathered, whole sections were missing so I had to jump over the gaps. Up ahead was a rickety footbridge that stretched over a chasm; the ocean crashed on the boulders below in a spray of foam. "Mr. Wake!" A young man in a college letteman's jacket was waving from the far side of the footbridge. "Hurry!"
I glanced behind me, the hitchhiker was closing in, the ax cleaving the air.
"Hurry, Mr. Wake!" shouted the young man.
I ran. Partway across the bridge, my leg broke though one of the rotting planks. I clung to the railings, and I pulled myself up. I limped across the remainder of the bridge.
The young man grabbed my arm, and led me toward a dark cabin at the base of the lighthouse. "It's me, Mr. Wake. Clay Steward, don't you remember?"
"I don't know you . . ." I shook him off.
"You're a joke, Wake!" shouted the hitchhiker, halfway across the bridge.
"Get inside," said steward, pushing me up the steps of the cabin. "Turn on the lights, I'll stop him." I rushed into the cabin and tried to find the light switch. Then, the door slammed shut. Though the window I could see steward standing by the front porch, holding a revolver as the hitchhiker approached.
"Steward!" shouted Wake. "Get in here!"
"Stay where you are, Mr. Wake," said Steward, voice cracking.
"Just put all the lights on!"
"Come inside . . ." I tugged at the door, trying to open it, but it stayed shut. "Steward!"
The hitchhiker rushed at Steward, swinging the ax with both hands.
I struggled against the door, but it still couldn't budge.
Then, I heard gunshots, those coming from Steward's revolver. I looked out, the bullets staggered the hitchhiker for an instant, but he shrugged it off. Steward fired again. "Why won't you die?" Steward wailed, emptying the revolver, each shot hitting the hitchhiker.
I couldn't believe what I seeing, the hitchhiker didn't drop. It was like he wasn't human.
And then in horror, I saw the hitchhiker drove his ax deep in Steward's chest, splitting the gold letter on the young man's jacket.
Steward let out an awful moan and sank to his knees. "No!" I shouted, banging on the window so hard, it vibrated. The hitchhiker braced his foot against Steward's chest and jerked the ax free. It's steel head dripped with blood. Steward fell forward onto his face.
I finally found the light switch, I flicked it on but the lights stayed off. I flicked the switch on and off, off and on. But the cabin remained dark.
The cabin began to shake at first, then harder, and harder. The hitchhiker has disappeared from the front porch, as if his job was done and he was no longer needed. There was a roaring in my ears, not knowing if it came from outside the cabin or in my head, but it hurt like hell. The windows slowly cracked, then it blew out, the wind was howling though the cabin. The back door flew open upending furniture, scattering papers. The cabin groaned, it started to fall apart. Then light started to poured from the collapsing walls. I ran down the front steps, onto the dead grass around the cabin, out into the light. The roaring sound was gone now. I blinked in the powerful light hovering over me, caught. There was a form inside the light, an orb, a man, an angel. The figure spoke to me, as though the orb was struggling to be heard.
"I have something important to tell you."
I tried to speak, but the light, but the light . . . it was too bright, messing with my thoughts.
"It goes like this: For he did not know, that beyond the lake he called home, lies a deeper darker ocean green. Where waves are both wilder, and more serene. To its ports I've been, To its I've been. Do you understand?"
"N-no," I said. "I have no Idea what you're talking about."
"I entered your dream to teach you. The darkness is dangerous. The light took a paused. It's sleeping now, but when it feels you coming, it will wake up."
I looked around, and he was back. The hitchhiker, with the bloody ax in his hand. He stood on the very edge of the light, just inside the shadows, eager to cross over. It was like it was afraid of the light. But as I watched, the darkness grew blacker, more intense, shiny as oil. I looked back at the shining light.
"You are safe in the light. The darkness cannot hurt you there." The light flickered, and I covered my eyes and screamed.
Stephen King once wrote that "Nightmares exist outside logic, and there's little fun to be had in explanations; they're antithetical to the poetry of fear." In a horror story, the victim keeps asking "why?" But there can be no explanation, and there shouldn't be one. The unanswered mystery is what stays with us the longest, and it's what we'll remember in the end. My name is Alan Wake. I'm a writer.
I've always had a vivid imagination, but this dream unsettled me. It was wild and dark and weird even by my standards. So yes, it began with a dream. Following a typical nightmare pattern, I was late, desperately trying to reach my destination - - a lighthouse - for some urgent reason I couldn't remember. I'd been driving too fast down a coastal road to get there. The next thing I knew, I hit something. I had gone out of the car to see what I just hit, it was a man, a hitchhiker. I bent down my knees to feel if there was any sign of life, I couldn't feel any, he was dead. I was convinced they'd put me to jail, and I would never see Alice again.
Then, my car's headlights went out. I looked back at the headlights, but I ignored it, then as I looked back where the hitchhiker was laying, dead and lifeless, he disappeared. I was shocked, I placed my hands around where he was laying, feeling around as if I may find a hole, I thought it was some kind of insurance scam fake out, something. But there was nothing, just the cold pavement, from the gloomy cool night air. I stood, my knees were shaking, so I looked around and I pushed my car to the side of the road. It was a write-off. So then I started walking towards the lighthouse in the near distance, trying to stay upright to stay steady. Then the man came into my mind again. I started arguing with myself, The man had been there, I hit him, killed him. So where's the damn body? I turned back. My car is still there though, water leaking onto the pavement. So as I looked up ahead, I saw a streetlight lid up a wooden, pedestrian walkway that wounds its way to the lighthouse. I still wasn't sure what I was going to say to the police when I report the accident. Then as I walked under the streetlight, It exploded on me. Son of a!! I thought, covering my head as tiny bits of broken glass drifted down around me like snow. As the snow of broken glass fell around me, I looked back again to my car, I froze to the spot.
The hitchhiker was there. Standing in front of my vehicle, covered in blood and shadows. And he had something in his hand, an ax. He strode towards me. I wanted to run away but I couldn't move my body, then the streetlights farther down the hill exploded, then another, and another still. And then, the next thing I knew, he appeared right in front of me.
The hitchhiker stared at me and turned his head. Then his head sprung back up and said, "You don't even recognize me, do you writer?" said the hitchhiker, disgusted. "You think you're god? You think you can just make up stuff? Play people's lives and kill them when it adds to the drama?!" He hefted the ax, his clothes spotted with gore. I was able to move my body again, and started stepping back away from the ax maniac. "Where are you going? You're in this story now, and I'll make you suffer!" The hitchhiker threw the ax at me, and at the split- second, I was able to dodge the attack and ran away as fast as I can. "You 'll never going to publish anymore of those shitty stories, 'cause I'm gonna kill you!"yelled the hitchhiker. I looked back, and the hitchhiker was gone. But I didn't care, I kept on sprinting, my feet pounding on the wooden walkway, but I knew that the man was still following me, because all the streetlights kept exploding on me. I saw the pathway to the lighthouse, it wasn't to far away, but as I was about to run towards it, the hitchhiker appeared in front of me from out of the shadows. "Damn it" said Wake. "What's your hurry?" mocked the hitchhiker, coming after him. "I thought you liked horror stories." Wake kept running, his footsteps drumming on the wooden slats, the lighthouse was a beacon in the night.
"What kind of writer are you?!" called the hitchhiker
The planks in the walkway were cracked and weathered, whole sections were missing so I had to jump over the gaps. Up ahead was a rickety footbridge that stretched over a chasm; the ocean crashed on the boulders below in a spray of foam. "Mr. Wake!" A young man in a college letteman's jacket was waving from the far side of the footbridge. "Hurry!"
I glanced behind me, the hitchhiker was closing in, the ax cleaving the air.
"Hurry, Mr. Wake!" shouted the young man.
I ran. Partway across the bridge, my leg broke though one of the rotting planks. I clung to the railings, and I pulled myself up. I limped across the remainder of the bridge.
The young man grabbed my arm, and led me toward a dark cabin at the base of the lighthouse. "It's me, Mr. Wake. Clay Steward, don't you remember?"
"I don't know you . . ." I shook him off.
"You're a joke, Wake!" shouted the hitchhiker, halfway across the bridge.
"Get inside," said steward, pushing me up the steps of the cabin. "Turn on the lights, I'll stop him." I rushed into the cabin and tried to find the light switch. Then, the door slammed shut. Though the window I could see steward standing by the front porch, holding a revolver as the hitchhiker approached.
"Steward!" shouted Wake. "Get in here!"
"Stay where you are, Mr. Wake," said Steward, voice cracking.
"Just put all the lights on!"
"Come inside . . ." I tugged at the door, trying to open it, but it stayed shut. "Steward!"
The hitchhiker rushed at Steward, swinging the ax with both hands.
I struggled against the door, but it still couldn't budge.
Then, I heard gunshots, those coming from Steward's revolver. I looked out, the bullets staggered the hitchhiker for an instant, but he shrugged it off. Steward fired again. "Why won't you die?" Steward wailed, emptying the revolver, each shot hitting the hitchhiker.
I couldn't believe what I seeing, the hitchhiker didn't drop. It was like he wasn't human.
And then in horror, I saw the hitchhiker drove his ax deep in Steward's chest, splitting the gold letter on the young man's jacket.
Steward let out an awful moan and sank to his knees. "No!" I shouted, banging on the window so hard, it vibrated. The hitchhiker braced his foot against Steward's chest and jerked the ax free. It's steel head dripped with blood. Steward fell forward onto his face.
I finally found the light switch, I flicked it on but the lights stayed off. I flicked the switch on and off, off and on. But the cabin remained dark.
The cabin began to shake at first, then harder, and harder. The hitchhiker has disappeared from the front porch, as if his job was done and he was no longer needed. There was a roaring in my ears, not knowing if it came from outside the cabin or in my head, but it hurt like hell. The windows slowly cracked, then it blew out, the wind was howling though the cabin. The back door flew open upending furniture, scattering papers. The cabin groaned, it started to fall apart. Then light started to poured from the collapsing walls. I ran down the front steps, onto the dead grass around the cabin, out into the light. The roaring sound was gone now. I blinked in the powerful light hovering over me, caught. There was a form inside the light, an orb, a man, an angel. The figure spoke to me, as though the orb was struggling to be heard.
"I have something important to tell you."
I tried to speak, but the light, but the light . . . it was too bright, messing with my thoughts.
"It goes like this: For he did not know, that beyond the lake he called home, lies a deeper darker ocean green. Where waves are both wilder, and more serene. To its ports I've been, To its I've been. Do you understand?"
"N-no," I said. "I have no Idea what you're talking about."
"I entered your dream to teach you. The darkness is dangerous. The light took a paused. It's sleeping now, but when it feels you coming, it will wake up."
I looked around, and he was back. The hitchhiker, with the bloody ax in his hand. He stood on the very edge of the light, just inside the shadows, eager to cross over. It was like it was afraid of the light. But as I watched, the darkness grew blacker, more intense, shiny as oil. I looked back at the shining light.
"You are safe in the light. The darkness cannot hurt you there." The light flickered, and I covered my eyes and screamed.
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