Alan Wake

Episode 3.1: Trap

"What, the lamp lady?" Randolph cut in, chasing the crows away from the trash bins as he walked towards them. "She can be a little loopy, but she's not homeless or anything,"

"Yeah, anyway, she knew both Jagger and Zane before they both died and she had some kind of a breakdown," Barry finished his sentence. As I continued to follow Randolph, questions were flooding my head. Was Zane related to all this? How was Cynthia Weaver, the lady in the diner, related to all of this?

"Well, mister, this is Rose's trailer," he spoke, breaking me away from my thoughts. "You mind me asking what you want with her?"

"We're just here to talk to her, pal," Barry replied.

I jogged towards the trailer with mixed emotions. Something was not right about this but if I did not try, I would not get anything. I knocked the window pane that seemed to be the only entrance to the trailer. Rose's footsteps were getting louder and she slid the window pane open. 

"Welcome to -- to--... oh dear, Mr. Wake, I'm -- so glad you're here," Rose replied. However, I looked at her suspiciously. Given from my previous experience, she should resemble nothing more than an enthusiastic fan who would be filled with energy when she see me. However, she spoke so monotonously that I wondered if that was really Rose. 

"Rose, you have my manuscripts?" I asked.

"Oh. Oh, yes! Yes? Please, come in," she replied. Without second thoughts, I stepped in despite the suspicious atmosphere lingering around me. Maybe she would be better off being quiet. 

As Barry and I sat on the couch, Rose served some coffee. I grabbed the cup of coffee and drank it, savouring the smell of the nice aroma of coffee and allowing it to float into my nose. The smell of coffee replaced the suspicious atmosphere. Barry gulped it down the moment he placed his mouth onto the tip of the cup.

"Hey, this is really good!" Barry complimented. I did not bother to add any further about his compliments. My face was written with nothing but worry. I looked at Rose.

"Rose," I called her with my tone changing.

"Yes?" she asked.

"My manuscript? I really need it," I asked, getting impatient by the minute.

"I understand. I know what you need. A muse to inspire you," she continued. I snapped angrily. Barry and I were tricked. There was no manuscript at all.

"Oh, for... Barry, she doesn't have anything!" I snapped, complaining to Barry about it. Now, I have wasted some of my precious time. 

"Yeah, uh. Hey, Al? Al, what's..." Barry talked sheepishly and I looked in horror when he let out a moan and collapsed on the table. 

"Barry!" I yelled, shaking him. It took me a few seconds before I realised what happened. Soon, I panted heavily. Even standing up felt like a challenge. My head was spinning and my sights became distorted as if a machine's system was getting damaged. All the strength I had moments ago left. I dropped the coffee onto the floor and the next moment, I found myself suffering the same fate as the cup of coffee that I held as I fell to the ground, consciouness leaving my grip with each passing second before darkness engulfed me.

Suddenly, I was standing in the middle of nowhere. There was no grass and trees. Only a patch of land with mists of darkness surrounding me from a distance. On top was the same ray of strong white light that I have seen before in my nightmare.

"It's coming for you, hiding inside my Barbara's skin," the light warned. "I'm too weak to stop it. You must turn the lights on," In a flash, the lights went out, darting out of sight. Even my eyes were unable to trace it. An eerie presence was felt at my back.