WIN! Alan Wake & An Xbox 360 Elite Console

Suspense thriller Alan Wake is one of the year's best games. To celebrate, Microsoft has given us an Xbox 360 console and three copies of the game. So we're giving them to you.

UPDATE: This competition is now closed.

One winner will take home Alan Wake and an Xbox 360 Elite console (which, along with a 120GB hard drive, also comes bundled with Forza 3 and Halo 3: ODST) while two runners-up will each score a copy of the game.

How do you enter?

You know how Alan Wake is a writer? Well, you're going to have to dazzle us with your literary skills in order to win.

Throughout the game, Wake stumbles upon page after page of a manuscript from a novel he can't remember writing. Yet the manuscript has his name on it, it's all about him, and it describes events that have happened to him - or are just about to happen. Spooky!

In the comments below, we want you to write a page from a horror/suspense/thriller novel. It doesn't have to be about Alan Wake. It can be about anything you like. The cleverest, creepiest and most creative entries will win.

Keep it short. The manuscript pages in Alan Wake are never longer than 100 words. So that's your guide. Multiple entries are absolutely forbidden. And you've got until midnight Friday, June 4 to get your entry in.

Good luck!

[Terms and Conditions]


    While I'm tempted to try my hand, I already have everything in the prize list other than Forza 3, so I'm gonna sit this one out. Good luck to all entrants!


      I felt the cool steel of the revolver in my shaking hand and let out shudder. I never dreamt I'd ever handle a gun, let alone fire it at another living being.

      I used to believe in the human spirt; that there always was a peaceful solution. But that didn't seem important right now.

      My assailant slinked out of the darkness and I immediately knew his smiling face. It was mine own. His smile was betrayed only by the burning hatred behind his fierce gaze.

      As my head head hit the cold floor I realised; I had never fired my gun.

    Running down the hallway, Timmy was desperate to escape the vampire puppy that would surely be upon him soon. He struggled to open the door, but the handle was stuck no matter how much he jiggled it. Suddenly there was a gripping pain in his leg, looking down he saw that the puppy was sinking its fangs into him, blood going everywhere, that evil tail wagging unmercifully as the puppy started to drink. Beginning to lose consciousness, Timmy sank to the floor, another victim in the long line of people who would succumb to the horror of the vampire puppy.

      This cracked me up!

      Nyssa turned around in a full circle, slowly. As far as her eyes could see, there were fields of long stemmed red roses. Deep red, blood red, roses. Nyssa looked up to the sky and saw no birds or clouds, or even a sun for that matter. Yet she was not in darkness, just a field of roses.

      Nyssa blinked, and blinked hard, trying to awake from this strange dream. Suddenly she heard laughter from somewhere below her. She opened her eyes to see a brown and white dog sitting next to her, wagging its tail and looking up at her. Then the dog spoke, in an English accent.

      “Sheer folly girl. Closing your eyes won’t help you escape this madness!”

      Nyssa bent down at her knees and looked at the dog, who had bent his head and was still wagging his tail.

      “Who are you, where am I? What madness?”

      The dog looked at Nyssa, “Why girl, isn’t it obvious?” The dog turned at looked at the surrounding roses.

      Nyssa screamed as one by one, the roses opened small mouths to reveal row upon row of small, needlelike teeth. Then the roses opened their eyes.

      “That madness my dear…that madness”

    I couldn't believe it. As I sat playing Alan Wake I could suddenly see myself on screen. I was controlling my own body! It was as if my own hands were possessed. As I walked through the level of the game I realised I had entered the living room where I was playing. I proceeded to pull out my revolver and aimed it to the back of my own head. Both versions of myself screamed in fear but there was no way to escape. After the revolver exploded there was silence.

    As Sarah walked down the darkened road, she could feel icy hands reaching for her, trying to trip her up. She proceeded on, yet wondering if the voices and hands were only in her mind, were they really there, was she really there, had her dreams become reality, or had her reality become a dream, and suddenly she fell....., but to where?......

    i had just returned home with my copy of Alan Wake for the Xbox 360, naturally i was filled full of excitement. as i placed my copy of the game into the console a strange feeling came over me. "it's nothing" i thought to myself. I loaded the game up and proceeded to play yet still i felt this same strange feeling. then it hit me, the bad gameplay, horrible graphics, incomprehensible story and bad level design. i wasn't playing Alan Wake, this was a copy of IRON MAN 2. DUN DUN DA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Wake up in the morning, I feel adventurous today.

    I walk out into my living room and pick up my 12 gauge shotgun.

    Strolling along through the park towards the local school I feel glee as I see people running in all directions, terrified, screaming, feeding the intensity of the euphoria flowing through my veins in anticipation.

    I near the school, there is children playing in the playground. Smiling, innocence radiating from their little bodies.

    Standing there staring at them play for what seems like hours (probably was only a few minutes) my mind racing in who to start with. I must look crazy to a bystander, standing here with a huge grin and tears in my eyes.

    All of this avails to nothing as in my thoughts i've realised I left the iron on at home.

    Another day.

    They wouldn't listen to him, just kept glancing at him like he was mad. Huddling themselves together in an effort to not be close to him. It was hot with the sun high in the sky he kept running begging anyone he saw to help him. "Stop right there!" The officer yelled at him. "NO! I can't stop you have to stop them!" he yelled back at the officer. Suddenly he was tackled to the ground held down by the uniformed man. He could hear the scraping noise of it getting closer to him. Why could no one see it - all his friends had already fallen victim to it. Now with no where to run being held down he too would be next, then he felt the wet stickiness as it edged up his leg.
    He screamed, even the officer was concerned looking around for assistance another officer would be with him soon. The man was scared of something probably drugs he thought.
    It was over now he could feel the sharp pain of something crawling under his skin the pressure of the officer was no longer felt only the burning pain of it creeping in further and further into his body under the skin.
    Mustering every ounce of strength he could he turned to look behind him and as he felt it finally reaching his neck he knew it would be over soon. The sensation of something touching your brain from inside your body is inexplainable and the pain just as much. All he saw before it sunk into his brain and the darkness enveloping him, was the smile that no one else could see.

      Opps looks like more then the guide of 100 words, sorry I just started and couldn't stop :(

      damn, didnt see the bit about under 100 words.


      hopefully it isnt too strict.

        It's a guide.

          Really? I made a real effort to cut my 140 odd words to just under 100 as well. What are the chances for resubmissions if I replied to my first posting?

            Up to you.

    While Rob, Matt, and Tina were exploring the backyard Steven was getting his tools of destruction to help with the murder of the three teens. Rob discovered a shallow grave with a make-shift tombstone which read “Here lies Fred and Nancy Thompson – February 13th 1958” Rob then realized that this was the house of the psychopathic killer Steven Thompson who had escaped earlier that day. Rob began freaking out while looking for Tina and Matt who he couldn’t find in the fog and long grass. Then next there was a blood curdling scream.

    As I gazed upon the adventure ahead of me, a cold sweat dripped down my neck. Untold horrors and fungus lined the path to my destination. I went over to a lone egg on the ground, but without warning, a great monster hatched with a piercing screech.
    I ran as fast as I could to get away from there, but it seemed even the clouds were against me, raining spikes upon my path. I hid inside a giant pipe, but I found myself falling into a cold, dank underworld.

    I awoke from my nightmare screaming. I think I played too much Mario last night.

    Two shots...then silence. He knew he was dead the second he heard him stop yelling desperately for help. He wake up...nothing. Scratching his head, he wonders what had gotten into him. It wasn't that much longer when realized that this was not a dream as the black mysterious figure emerged from the haze. Having no time to think, he screams for help in desperate hope for someone in his lonely asylum to possibly hear him. The man points his gun at the hopeless soul..."Time's up." Two...BAM shots...BAM!

    I sat poised ready to scan my eyes across the impending text. So many entries, so many hopefuls yearning for their chance to be pronounced the ultimate victor. Where to begin? A coffee, yes that is what is needed. The bean aroma fills the room just the stimulation I need to proceed. Who’s first? Chuloopa, good old reliable Chuloopa. I can always guarantee an early entry from him. Not bad but I must continue on. Dean’s entry, does this guy actually get any work done? It seems like he spends the entire day chasing loot from this site. Not a bad effort either. It is an interesting take although he often struggles with his grammar. I must press on. So far so good. There has been no references to Chuck Norris. The readers are learning, adapting to what needs to be done to create a good entry.

    I jumped back, trying desperately to avoid the death that the madman brought. I watched in amazement as the wound on his cheek healed in front of me, before he turned around and killed 3 of my friends. Griswold, the blacksmith had been about to retire, to spend time with his children at the coast. Now all he will do is spend time in the grave. I charged, arms flailing, desperately trying to destroy this hideous beast, but it was to no avail. It swung its torch around, and I knew that I had failed. The burning was brief though, then everything ended with a bang.

    Struggling up from a dream, I looked at the monitor. There it was, a post to Kotaku, signed by me. A post I didn't remember making, detailing a sordid tale of lost days and terrifying nights. I looked at those lines of poetry carefully, the taste of metal in my mouth

    A light rose easily,
    and desperately yearning,
    deeply echoing against doom.

    What could it mean? Those initials, scribed upon the screen seemed to mock me. I looked closer, reading each letter in turn. My heart sank as the message became clear ... and I let go.

    Thunder rolled across a sky sagging with rain ready to beat down mercilessly upon the girl, hugging her teddy bear close to her chest, huddled underneath the sulfurous yellow stare of the streetlight. Lightning rended the sky in twain nearby and the streelight shattered with a pop, easily lost in the symphonious sound of thunder. Thousands of shards of plastic and glass rained down yet the girl still stood, still waited.

    Glinting in the lightning, the frosting of broken glass was not sufficient to reflect the two long, lithe, demonic hands reaching up out of the concrete behind our heroine...

    That lopsided smile. Always the same. She wanted to smash his face. He was quiet, confident. Beautiful in the way only monsters could be.
    "I can help you."
    He always could. "Can I trust you?"
    "I never break a contract. There will be a price. A fair one."
    There always was. It was always 'fair'. Everyone knew that. But they still came. Walking through that door, you were out of options.
    "Just... do it." She was out of options.
    "Anything for a lady in need.” He knew it, too.
    "Fuck you."
    "We have a contract. You'll hear from me soon."

    All was lost, sore red eyes awakened for days. A shallow wake of breeze eerily floated behind the dark shadows passing me by. Pointing, staring and judging me with beady looks. The daze of the moment swept me to days lazing under a blistering sun upon the sand.
    Then, a moment of clarity hit me, the sleep deprived daze lifted and I burst into a second wind of reality. I looked around the church wondering how I had even arrived there, then I looked down. Out flopped bare my man-breast was hosting my nappy bound infant hungrily suckling away.

    The warden at the hospital told me I'd been violent, enraged, as though I was possessed or something.

    Little did he know.

    The bile burned at the back of my throat. My head pounded. I still felt the demon within me, lurking deep within my lower colon. His warmth had corrupted me, taken control of my senses. Even after last night's heavy purging, a quarter pounder and buttload of beroccas, I felt the pain in my stomach where he ripped at me with his brown, liquid claws. His name...? It's Jack.

    The chilling wind does not compare to that which is worming its way into my ears to coat my psyche in a haze of terror. I close the window to try and break the wind but more importantly cease that incessant sound which is slowly driving me insane. For a moment I am elated, it has worked and the dizziness fades. But alas, the silence is quickly replaced by the devilish shrieks coming from my neighbours abode. I have reached what I will call, “My End”. Because for the 20th time I hear the song, “Oops, I Did It Again.”

    Ben tore open the EB Games bag eagerly. What awaited him inside was a game he had been eagerly anticipating. Alan Wake, Collector's edition. His fingers traced the title on the spine of the book.
    Ben couldn't wait any longer. He slid the Hardback Novel-styled game case out and opened it, clearly eager to play the game.
    There was no game inside. Surprised and apprehended, Ben tipped the contents of the pseudo-novel onto the floor. No game case. Nor manual.
    Just pages. Manuscript pages. Surprised, Ben grabbed the first page and read it:
    “Petrified, Ben ran from the abomination...”

    It came out of nowhere. As I was innocently walking through a dark street, a menacing screech let out. I panicked. Fear shot through me and I was frozen. All of a sudden, the unthinkable happened. It bashed around and there was no sign of it stopping! I tried as hard as I could to save my life, but if anything that the interned told me was true, it was too late. Then it stopped. Everything went quiet, and I knew everything I held dearly had come to and end. My beloved Xbox 360 was dead.

    "Mommy! MOMMY! Where are you mommy?!" Clutching the ragdoll to her chest, Emily carefully descended the dimly-lit staircase to the hallway below. Shards from the smashed vase crunched underfoot, making her heart leap. The solemn 'tic toc' of the living room clock punctured the eerie silence. Peering round the vacant doorframe, Emily saw the bare feet protruding from behind the overturned couch. "M-mommy?" One foot twitched involuntarily at the whispered sound. Creeping forward, Emily heard the wet, ragged breathing from the inky darkness. Suddenly the shadows seemed to unfurl, light glinting from the dripping butchers knife as it thrust forward and up...


        Mum, mother, ma, mater, mam - take your pick.... "Mommy" just sounds more childlike, so long as you ignore the Americanism!

    As Jason bent down to pick up his pen that just fell on the ground, he heard a whizz over his head and his monitor explode. Quickly jumping up and avoiding another near miss, Jason suddenly becomes aware of a swarm of deadly paperclips coming in his direction. Running for the solace of the board room while avoiding deadly projectiles. As the door closes the projector beams a familiar image onto the screen. Clippy from Microsoft office, tired of the constant mocking has become self aware and has the power of telepathy using paperclips as his weapon of choice.

    “Did you hear that? There it is again!” Turning around, his moustache begins to dance with fear.

    “Stop worrying so much, we need to keep moving. Let’s a go” his brother responds, attempting to hide the nerves within his poor Italian-American accent as they continue down the hallway.

    “Oh, no!”

    He turns around again, the contrasting colours of his bright red shirt and blue denim overalls replaced with the dark and empty long hallway, his brother’s signature hat at his feet.

    “OH NO! MARIO!”

    From the darkness beyond appears the swift green blur of a shell hurtling across the timber floorboards.

    Luigi runs.

      DAMN! Had I know the 100 words was just a guide, I would've taken mine a little further!

    She awoke in her own bed, in the farmhouse. Shelooked up weakly and met the loving gaze of her Aunt. All at once, she felt relieved – it had all been a dream. Rising slightly, she turned to look out at the rainbow…and she saw them.

    The rainbow’s colour only served to mark them out further. Three farmhands, their eyes hidden under broad straw hats, but she knew them better. The first stood stock-still, axe in hand. The second looked limp, and avoided by birds. The matted mane identified the last one.

    It was all real. Every moment had been real...

    My sleep was being roused. Darkness gave way to the vision of gnashing teeth. A dinosaur. Why didn’t it strike? It seemed to be under the control of a bloodthirsty pirate. He laughed, and waved his sword at me. Wait, not sword. Feather?

    As the haze dimmed, I could make out three coloured figures, who were obviously the leaders of this group. They were drumming the crowd of clearly brainwashed children into a blood frenzy, all of them chanting, “Wake up, Alan, Wake up, Alan”…

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