[ He's drowning again, or almost drowning. He can feel the waves at his feet, washing over him, enticing him into going deeper. He's dead already, isn't he?
No! No, I'm not dead, I'm still here, I'm still trying...
He wants to throw himself forward, to latch onto Jesse and hold onto her in a desperate attempt to keep the waves from dragging him away. The image of a screaming face flares into his mind; his face, screaming, but out of terror, not madness. Although what's the difference between madness and terror? There's not much of a difference, in Alan's mind.
He actually does lurch forward, but her hands on his face pull him up short. She can always draw his attention simply by touching him. Sometimes it seems to work better than other times. Now is one of the times when it breaks him from his terrified thoughts.
Alan Wake.
Her voice seems to merge with another voice: her voice, but different. Polaris and Jesse on the same wavelength. The same resonance. It's only in his head, of course, but his mind is filling in the blanks for him. ]
It- It wasn't just that one time, was it? It- It was always me, terrorizing Alice, killing myself, stopping myself from fixing the story.
[ He feels the edges of his thoughts fraying as if madness is trying to take hold, and he shakes his head, but not enough to dislodge Jesse's hands. Words form and spill from him, slowly and remaining slow, not increasing in pace or feverish pitch, but a look of agitation is forming in his eyes. ]
I walked into the room, and I saw him there. He was scratching out my edits to Return. I had to stop him. I fired the gun. Why did I fire the gun? It wasn't Scratch. It was me. Don't let me fire the gun again.
[ Is he talking to Jesse? To himself? Even Alan doesn't really know. Maybe he's talking to both of them, making a desperate plea to not let this happen again. ]
I don't know how to stop. How do I let you help? How do I stop letting myself loop if I forget that I keep walking into that room and firing the gun?
[ He leans forward as if searching for her, searching for the closeness that she offers. Polaris' brush on his mind registers and he latches onto it out of desperation and need. Even now, he feels like he's in a loop that he can't break, because he can't see how to break it. ]
Do you see a way to stop the loops? Do you see how to stop them? Because I don't. I can't.
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No! No, I'm not dead, I'm still here, I'm still trying...
He wants to throw himself forward, to latch onto Jesse and hold onto her in a desperate attempt to keep the waves from dragging him away. The image of a screaming face flares into his mind; his face, screaming, but out of terror, not madness. Although what's the difference between madness and terror? There's not much of a difference, in Alan's mind.
He actually does lurch forward, but her hands on his face pull him up short. She can always draw his attention simply by touching him. Sometimes it seems to work better than other times. Now is one of the times when it breaks him from his terrified thoughts.
Alan Wake.
Her voice seems to merge with another voice: her voice, but different. Polaris and Jesse on the same wavelength. The same resonance. It's only in his head, of course, but his mind is filling in the blanks for him. ]
It- It wasn't just that one time, was it? It- It was always me, terrorizing Alice, killing myself, stopping myself from fixing the story.
[ He feels the edges of his thoughts fraying as if madness is trying to take hold, and he shakes his head, but not enough to dislodge Jesse's hands. Words form and spill from him, slowly and remaining slow, not increasing in pace or feverish pitch, but a look of agitation is forming in his eyes. ]
I walked into the room, and I saw him there. He was scratching out my edits to Return. I had to stop him. I fired the gun. Why did I fire the gun? It wasn't Scratch. It was me. Don't let me fire the gun again.
[ Is he talking to Jesse? To himself? Even Alan doesn't really know. Maybe he's talking to both of them, making a desperate plea to not let this happen again. ]
I don't know how to stop. How do I let you help? How do I stop letting myself loop if I forget that I keep walking into that room and firing the gun?
[ He leans forward as if searching for her, searching for the closeness that she offers. Polaris' brush on his mind registers and he latches onto it out of desperation and need. Even now, he feels like he's in a loop that he can't break, because he can't see how to break it. ]
Do you see a way to stop the loops? Do you see how to stop them? Because I don't. I can't.
[ I can't see anything. ]