I Am A.Wake

Name: Mr. Scratch*
Gender: Male
Species: Doppelgänger/Incarnation of Darkness
Height: 6'2"
Weight: ≈ 170 lbs
Age: ≈ 33 (1978)
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Blue-Grey

Current Residence: Moving from hotel to motel to motel to hotel, occasionally stops in to the Dark Place
Occupation: Herald of Darkness, serial killer, making Alan's life as miserable as possible

Powers:

• Well, a good hand for inflicting extensive body trauma and dismemberment isn't exactly a power, but with his favorite tools, there's something to be said for his work.

• Direct control over the Darkness.
  
  • Manipulating it like extra limbs, he's seen catching and dragging back someone who escapes from a room with him without ever moving, and again later wrapping it around someone's throat and pulling them out of a chair with it to hang them until dead.
    
    
  • Manipulating extremely heavy objects with this, including large machine parts and cars, often in the direction of throwing them at things.
    
    • He can also create 'poltergeists' of darkness with a similar ability, as they possess objects to throw them and can be destroyed in the process of manipulating them.
    
    
  • Producing swarms of Taken.
  
  
  • The ability to travel and move quickly through the darkness. He reduces himself to a sort of tangible cloud of darkness not completely unlike a large form of the poltergeists he creates. When he has somewhere to be expediently- this is the way to go. Also assists in avoiding pesky situations with things like police.
  
  
  
• Touching people with Darkness. This has two affects:
  
  • Turning them into the 'Taken', the equivalent of rendering people into a zombie-minded shade of themselves, wrapped in darkness, often repeating clips and phrases of things that made them notably them in distorted voices. They lose the ability to understand basic concepts like manipulating objects like doors, guns, or anything more complex. They are highly sensitive to light, and cannot be injured without first having the darkness around them stripped away with light. There is nothing left to save of the people reduced to this state. There are different levels of Taken he can produce.
    
    
    • The Basic mindless, basic creatures with knives, hatchets, tire irons, fists and other weapons with minimal to no moving parts. There are variations, including larger, heavier Taken that hit harder and have higher defence.
      
      
      
      • Splitters, a subspecies of these that he can produce that starts as a a larger person with no darkness protection. They can be killed without the use of light, but targeting them with light will cause them to split into two smaller taken. These can then split again under the same methods.
      
      
    • The Assault Taken, more intelligent than their brethren that are capable of using items with moving parts and wield weapons like guns, grenades, and chainsaws. These are often faster and show some understanding of tactics.
      
      
    • Birds, as oddly enough, animal life can also be corrupted by the influence of the darkness, and swarms of birds make effective and evasive enemies. On top of this, there are 'Birdmen' Taken that can split into flocks of birds and back.
      
      
    • The Giants, a particular and very rare brand of Taken, overly large and near deformed in their titanic size and muscular structure. They wield concrete saws and are the hardest of all Taken to destroy.
    
    
  • The Touched- he can keep their minds mostly intact, just leave them extremely open and willing to his suggestion and choice personality adjustments. The darkness is much lighter around them and this can often be broken with an intense and constant enough light source, leaving the victim quite aware of their behavior and acts under his influence.

• Light. Not a fan of bright light sources, though he won't be affected by flashlights / torches / etc any more than a normal human. Flash bangs and flares will make him recoil but won't destroy him. He can handle outside light in the real world in very small doses, and only because you'll note he only comes out on poor weather and overcast days and sticks to the shade. Understandably, he infinitely prefers to play the night owl. Intense lights can damage him, but you'll need a backup kick to finish the job before he retreats.


• Ego. He's so full of himself the idea of losing in pretty much incomprehensible to him.

• Mr. Scratch is a twisted copy of me, powerful and dangerous, but I know I can fight him. I don't think anyone else can. They don't understand what he is, what he represents, or that all the horrible things he does here are almost insignificant compared to what he will unleash on Earth, given the chance.
  
  But I have survived the Dark Place, and it has taught me things -- how to cope, how to stay sane when the world goes crazy. He's two steps ahead of me, but I can find him. And I believe I can stop him.

• My own face peered back at me from the TV screen. For a moment, I struggled with the sensation of déjà vu -- how many times had I seen myself like this now?
  
  And then there was that easy grin that never seemed quite as quick or natural on my own lips, the dark, malicious twinkle in the eyes, and I knew who I was looking at.
  
  As he pulled back and revealed the room behind him, my throat went dry. There was nothing I could do but watch.

• I've seen the enemy, and it's me. I've faced dark horrors before, things that live in the unimaginable pressures of the world beyond our own. Sometimes they masquerade as humans.
  
  That's what ultimately lurks inside Mr. Scratch. He's every mean-spirited tabloid story about me, an evil caricature, a creature formed in that vague territory of misconceptions, half-truths, and the dark imagination of people who "heard a story about me". An urban legend made flesh. A serial killer.
  
  My dark half, brought to life by the power of Cauldron Lake.

• I'm trapped in the darkness. HE has started appearing to me. Mr. Scratch.
  
  He can travel back into the world effortlessly, and he loves to rub my face in it. At first, he was just an echo in the darkness, a flicker beyond the edge of my vision. Now he's started showing himself, getting bolder all the time. Telling me what a great time he's having in the world while I'm stuck here. And what he plans to do, especially to Alice.
  
  All the moves I have left are dangerous and desperate. I have no choice. I have to hunt him.

• There are places where our world is worn thin and another reality brushes against ours. One such site is Cauldron Lake near Bright Falls, Washington, but there are others.
  
  That other reality is dark, vast, and malleable, always in flux. In its depths dwell vast forces and alien energies. They are dangerous, but in one of these places, if you know how, you can channel the power of that place and use it to shape reality.

• The Taken may well be the tool the darkness favors over any other. At some point, they used to be human, but whatever humanity they once had is long gone. Now they're just shells covered and filled by darkness.
  
  The Taken Mr. Scratch throws at me are more grotesque and varied than the ones I first encountered in Bright Falls, but I know how to deal with them. I'd be lying if I said they don't frighten me, but I have survived worse. I can't let them stop me.

• It's obvious that for all his power, Mr. Scratch is an agent of another, greater being. The Dark Place he came from is full of terrible alien intelligences, dark presences, and none of them should be let loose in our world. He serves one of them. He'll open the way for them if I don't stop him.
  
  But he'll do more: he'll take over my life. He already has my face; he already uses my name. He'll become Alan Wake in every way imaginable and corrupt everything... unless I can stop this.

• The trap Mr. Scratch has set for me is as simple as it is impossible: whenever I reach him, he sends me back to the beginning of the maze. It's a loop in time; I go through it only to end up where I started. There's a brutal genius to it. If I die, it's over for me; if I survive, I end up where I started. Sooner or later, the odds will catch up with me, and in the meantime, he gets to toy with me...
  
  But that's why I have a chance. He's caught in this pattern just as much as I am. I know where he'll be, and I'm prepared.

• I have created the weapon that can put an end to this, a blueprint to a new reality. All I have to do is survive long enough to use it.
  
  My arrival from the Dark Place will be painful and difficult. These pages may be lost, but one way or another, I'll send the parts I really need to myself. If I make it outside, I have a chance.
  
  Mr. Scratch is more powerful than I am, but he can't change the rules in the middle of the game. He's not a creator, I am.

• Emma wasn't sure exactly when the mare arrived at the motel, but from what she could tell, the party started almost immediately. It was infectious, spreading from one room to another. He was mercurial, almost as if he was flickering through the scene, telling a joke here, throwing an insult there, oozing sex and violence and excitement.
  
  She had never seen someone like this before. He looked at her and smiled, and she felt her heart flutter a little.
  
  She knew he was the kind of a man mothers warned their daughters about, but she told herself it didn't matter.

• The man before Dr. Meadows was handsome and slick. He moved with lazy confidence and didn't bother to pretend that he wasn't staring at her. She didn't mind, at first.
  
  Then the man flicked open the knife and shoved her out of the control room so she wouldn't hear the signal -- whatever it was. Outside, she pulled her lab coat closed and thought about running. She didn't. She didn't think she'd get very far, not from him.
  
  She never was entirely sure why he spared her.

• When the dark man's eyes suddenly locked into Serena's, she flushed hot. They ignited a black fire in her.
  
  He was talking: he wanted the power turned off. He said something about the protector booth. She hooked a finger under his belt buckle. He grabbed a hold of her throat and twisted until it hurt. Somewhere deep inside, a part of her screamed in paralysed horror, but the moan that escaped her throat had no panic in it.
  
  "Pay attention," he said. "Business first." His eyes glittered shamelessly. Hers did, too.