The writer paced, shrouded in darkness, hands gripping his head, muttering to himself.
"I'm lost. Lost in the dark. Drowning. I'm drowning. No way out. Sinking deeper. Deeper and deeper. This is hell. I am in hell."
Memories flooded his mind, spiraling his thoughts into incoherence. His mutterings echoed the ramblings of a madman. "I died. Let me die! I just want to sleep. Please, let me sleep. I'm so tired. I want to go home. I've written so much. It's all gone. I don't know how to write."
Glancing at his manuscript, the words twisted into vague shapes before dissolving, leaving the paper blank.
"All the words are gone. Where did they go? Did I eat them?"
Words reappeared, floating, unsettlingly unstable. "I don't recognize these words anymore. Are they moving?"
Surveying the room, he muttered, "This is familiar. Why is this familiar? Have I been here before?"
Realization struck as he clutched the manuscript. "I've read this somewhere. Where am I? Who am I? Alan Wake? Wake?"
Pausing his rambling, he pondered, "That's a strange name. Sounds like a character's name. Did I invent it?"
Desperation intensified his restless pacing. "I don't want to be a character. Write me out of this story…" His voice trembled. He was desperate, tired. Persuading the guardian of this purgatory to release him seemed futile.
Placing the manuscript against his face, he stated, "Ram these words down your throat. Make you choke on them."
Reading the manuscript. He uttered, "I know the words. You can't take them. Stop using them! This isn't your story!"
Despairingly, he shouted, "The story is a monster! The darkness is coming. This is my story! Get out of my story!"
The writer muttered to himself, "There's no escape! You're stuck. You've lost the plot."
Just, a blinding eruption of light burst from the typewriter, flooding the cabin with brilliance. The writer stepped into the light.
...
"-octor."
"Doctor."
"Doctor." The writer could feel his body shaken by a pair of small hands. The writer's eyes open to meet the gaze of a young girl standing before him. A rabbit ears protruded from her head.
The girl, noticed that the writer had awaken, inquired, "Doctor, are you alright?"
The writer didn't recognize the girl. He didn't recognize the room he was in. He mumbled, "Doctor…?"