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Alan (V.O.): The payphone was ringing. Somehow, I knew the call was for me.
Alan: Hello?
Unknown Caller: Alan Wake?
Alan: Yes.
Unknown Caller: Do you know who I am?
Alan: No, who is this?
Unknown Caller: We’ll get to that later. There are spies all over. Shadows.
Alan (V.O.): A sense of déjà vu washed over me. Had I had this conversation before?
Unknown Caller: Alan, listen to me carefully. Caldera Street Station. The subway. You need to go there. I’ll call you again later. Make sure to pick up.
Alan: Do I know you? I know you from somewhere.
Unknown Caller: You’ve just forgotten again. We’re in this together. Don’t worry. I got you now. We’ve been working on —
Alan: I’m losing you. Hello? Hello? Ah!
Alan (V.O.): The man had said: Caldera Street Station. I had to go there. I had to find the subway station.
Alan: Fuck! Okay, don’t mind me. Just passing through.
Alan (V.O.): Shadows stirred, like there was someone there. But there was no one. I wanted to keep it that way.
Alan (V.O.): Caldera Street Station sign was there, but the entrance was missing. I had to make it appear. Maybe I could use the lamp to reveal the station entrance.
Casey: Is this the way it was on the page?
Alan: What the hell? Oh hey, we met at Door’s show.
Casey: Alan Wake, the writer. I’m Alex Casey. I’m looking into a murder.
Alan: Come on. What is this?
Casey: There’s a piece of evidence, a manuscript of a novel. You would know anything about it?
Alan: A manuscript? What manuscript? I need to see it.
Casey (V.O.): Rumor had it, the manuscript contained the details of the murders. A murder cult was following the story to commit their gruesome acts. Was Wake their leader? Had he written it? How far would he go to create a perfect work of art? Or would he be the next victim?
Casey: Stay here.
Alan: No, wait! I need a gun.
Casey: No chance.
Alan: Casey? Damn it.
Casey (V.O.): I remembered dying in this alley in a dream I had. He was just gonna keep killing me here, loop by loop.
Casey: You’re not gonna get what you want. You think you know. You know shit. You don’t really wanna know. You’re gonna get what’s coming to you.
Alan (V.O.): I needed his gun and flashlight to protect myself. This was an echo of the books I had written for years. Picking up Casey’s gun felt like I was assuming the role of the detective.
Alan (V.O.): I had a light now. I needed to get back to the subway station entrance. There was something hidden here. A phrase repeated over and over. The words resonated with meaning. Had I written this?
Alan: Shit.
Alan (V.O.): With the alley in darkness now, restless shadows blocked my way. I could use the light to banish the shadows.
Alan (V.O.): The shadows faded out, until they didn’t. They were trying to stop me. With the gun and flashlight, I could fight back.
Alan (V.O.): I needed to find a way around that fence.
Alan (V.O.): I had written books about Alex Casey for years. Something lingered here. A line from a half-forgotten story.
Alan: Careful now.
Unknown Voice: (humming)
Alan: Hello?
Tim: Oh, hey Alan. You snuck up on me.
Alan: Sorry, have we met?
Tim: Memory problems again, huh? Yeah, we’ve met. Tim Breaker. We’ve shared notes. I’ve made some progress on the map, if you want to take a look. Still haven’t found my mystery man, though.
Alan: You’re making a map?
Tim: I’m trying to. It’s hard to map a dream though. I keep ending up in unexpected places. I find interesting things, like those strange markings that react to light, but never the one thing I’m looking for. Feel free to check the map out. I’ve been stockpiling supplies while I poke around. If you find a stash, take anything you need.
Alan: I appreciate the help. Who’s this mystery man?
Tim: Wouldn’t be much of a mystery if I knew. All I have is a name. Warlin Door.
Alan: The talk show host?
Tim: Nah, that doesn’t sound like him. The guy has many disguises, but a talk show host? I’ll keep looking. That’s my crazy wall. Just trying to make sense of things. Don’t judge me.
Alan: I’ll trade your walls any day.
Alan: Fuck me.
Alan (V.O.): I could use the light to open the subway entrance now.
Alan (V.O.): I needed to find another light to go deeper inside.
Alan (V.O.): The gates to the platform were closed. I had a ticket. Something about the station platform felt significant. It would work in my writing, but I needed more. Something lingered here, a half-forgotten memory, an echo.
Casey (V.O.): An FBI Agent had come here before me, on the trail of a murder cult. He’d gone missing, presumed dead. The cult was leaving me clues to follow, connecting the dots from one murder to the next, inviting me to draw an obscene picture on the city map. Caldera Street Station. The name made me think of the exit wound of a bullet.
Alan (V.O.): I had a flash of inspiration. The ghost of my fictional detective. A story thread I could use in my writing. I had a location. I had a story thread. I would put them together, write them into my story. To create a path deeper into the Dark Place.
Alan (V.O.): Things clicked into place. The story rang true. I was making progress. The Dark Place had reacted to my story. The way into the tunnels was no longer blocked. The fed had glimpsed into the maw of darkness. It swallowed him whole. The tracks lead into the tunnel. That was my way forward. The blood trail continued deeper into darkness.
Alan: Ah! Shit. I don’t like the sound of that.
Alan (V.O.): The tunnels were a maze. The blood trail led me on. Another place to use in the story. I needed to search the tunnels for further visions. Inspiration for the story that would lead me deeper. I had a new beat for the story. I had changed the story, and with that the Dark Place changed. The federal agent had come here looking for answers. All he had found was a fate worse than death.
NYPD Officer 1 (V.O.): It’s bad luck to be on this case. The cult can get you anywhere, with that black magic shit. Let the day shift handle it. What happened anyway?
NYPD Officer 2 (V.O.): Some fed came looking for the cult. But it was a trap. A satanic blood sacrifice.
NYPD Officer 3 (V.O.): Anyone who gets involved with the cult, they’re next. I heard their leader is this famous writer, Alan Wake. Their unholy motherfucking messiah.
NYPD Officer 2 (V.O.): Sounds like a load of bull.
Alan (V.O.): The blood trail disappeared under the rubble. I had a feeling something was waiting there. Another echo lingered here. A source of inspiration.
Casey (V.O.): Word is your research can help me, ma’am. What do you know?
Professor: There’s more than one urban legend about the Cult of the Word. The murder cult used these tunnels for their ritual sacrifices. They say the cult reenacted the murders in Alan Wake’s crime books. That Wake was even involved somehow, under a false identity: Mr. Scratch. Which is, of course, a nickname for the devil himself.
Alan (V.O.): It was disturbing finding myself in the story this way, but I was desperate and it felt right for the story.
Alan (V.O.): This new plot beat would carry me deeper into the story. I was making my way deeper into the story. I could imagine this murder cult performing their macabre acts beyond the collapsed tunnel. The cultist laid the Casey novel onto the altar with reverence. Their twisted bible.
Alan (V.O.): The water was gone. The way forward was open.
Unknown Voice: (humming)
Tim: Hey, Alan. I’m Tim Breaker, just in case you don’t remember again.
Alan: I know, Tim. I’m remembering more now.
Tim: Good to hear, man.
Alan: How is your search for Mr. Door going?
Tim: Not great. This dream we’re in is putting a lot of roadblocks in my way.
Alan: So you think this is a dream?
Tim: I’m not ruling it out. My dreams have always been incredibly vivid. They feel real until the second I wake up. In the dreams, I’m often someone else. A different person with a different name living a different life in a different world. Alternate realities, maybe. But certain things don’t change. Like Door.
Alan: The sketch you have does look like the Door I know. The talk show host.
Tim: All I know is that Door has something to do with what’s happening to me. And he knows that I know. He’s like some sadistic mastermind, torturing me.
Alan (V.O.): The train blocked my way forward, but it was here for a reason. It had a role to play. The plot element I had found would drive the story forward. I had to keep working on the story.
Estevez: Agent… come in. Repeat. Come in. Do you copy? Caution advised. Can you hear me?
Alan: Hello? Anyone there? Dead…
Alan (V.O.): This would move the story forward. The cult poured the gasoline over the train car. An iron cage that would soon become a coffin.
Alan (V.O.): It was locked from the other side.
Casey (V.O.): Go on, ma’am.
Professor (V.O.): This is where the history of the cult gets genuinely disturbing. The cultists tracked down the Torchbearers living in the tunnels. They locked the poor folks up in a derailed subway car, doused it in gasoline, and… yeah.
Casey (V.O.): Charming.
Professor (V.O.): It turns into a bit of a ghost story after that. They say the dark smoke from the fire still roams the tunnels, searching for new victims to devour.
Casey (V.O.): There are no happy endings in this city.
Alan (V.O.): The story thread felt important. I could use it in one of the scenes I’d found. This new plot beat would carry me deeper into the story.
Alan (V.O.): The scene here had changed. The subway car had become a burnt husk. I could get through it now.
Alan: Ugh.
Alan (V.O.): None of this was real. It was all real.
Alan: Fuck me.
Alan (V.O.): My path was blocked. I had to find a way through. The lights would help me.
Alan (V.O.): The echoing hall had a story to tell. I had a new beat for the story.
Cultists: This is the ritual to lead you on.
Nightingale: Oh fuck me, oh fuck me, this is the real thing. Oh shit, oh fucking Hemingway, oh shit…
Alan (V.O.): The scene had changed.
Alan (V.O.): The hall had changed into the murder cult’s hideout.
Cultists (V.O.): This is the ritual to lead you on.
Casey (V.O.): The fed had witnessed something here that made him run scared. Whether the summoning ritual had been a bona fide supernatural event or the mass psychosis of stark raving lunatics, it didn’t change the facts. The cult was messing with things no one should mess with.
Alan (V.O.): The ritual was a vital part of the story. The key to reaching the murder site. The cultists were close now. A dark presence rising from the depths. The new story beat fit the story perfectly.
Alan (V.O.): This was something out of a horror story. But I had to keep going.
Casey (V.O.): Turns out the cultists weren’t the only ones using the tunnels. Hidden markings led to secret routes. I kept hearing whispers around burn barrels of an underground society of mystic outsiders with hidden knowledge. Typical New York.
Alan (V.O.): This new plot beat would carry me deeper into the story.
Casey (V.O.): The Torchbearers painted the tree there. The tree of knowledge? The tree of life, with its roots reaching down the hell? It could have been a Christman tree, for all the good it did them.
Alan (V.O.): The drifters had scrawled their symbol on the wall. A secret. For those in the know.
Alan: The Dark Presence, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!
Alan (V.O.): I couldn’t hear the Dark Presence. It was gone. The tunnel was open now. I could get through.
Alan: Shit.
Alan (V.O.): The Dark Presence. I had seen it before. I remembered now. It was always out there, hunting me.
Alan (V.O.): I had found the murder site. Somehow the victim’s heart was the key. Something had shifted. I felt an overwhelming closeness to home.
Alan: An FBI agent? Who are you?
Saga: What… Who are you?
Alan: She can hear me.
Saga: I’m Saga Anderson. FBI… hear you.
Alan: This is Alan Wake! I’m trapped here! The Dark Place.
Saga: Yes!
Alan: Under Cauldron Lake!
Saga: …at Cauldron Lake… are you?
Alan: I’m trying to escape. I’m making progress. But I’m in danger. The Dark Presence. Help me! Please help me!
Alan (V.O.): I could sense it. I was closer to home. Had the woman in the vision helped me somehow? Something had changed. Outside. Parliament Tower. Where I had lived with Alice. It was out there, waiting for me.