Alan woke up. At midnight.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Fuckin' hell, what did this? Alan doesn't get up this time, unless he was doing some serious college work. It wasn't right. He wasn't an early bird at all, and he usually only got up because of his alarm clock. Wait. The alarm clock. It hasn't gone off yet. So, why did he wake up? He didn't hear the BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP sound that always happened when the alarm went off. That was eardrum-breaking. 

He yawned. Apparently he was still on Earth. Not on whatever planet the dream had him on. So it was simply a dream. Good. Now, he didn't have to be as worried. It was weird, though. The fact that he could think and speak every language known to man. That was weird. But, Alan was wide awake now. Nothing he could do about that.

He didn't have sleeping pills, anyways.

He was fully awake, and he rolled out of his bed as well. He stood up, and looked around the room. In front of him was his computer. Next to that was the TV. And the bed was behind him. Such a simple room.

The thought came to him, 'A great evil is hunting you...'

What.

He walked over to his closet and sighed. Maybe he should get some fresh air. Maybe walk out, a friend or two would be up. Or run from the great evil, and try to find someone that his marking glowed around. Was that good? Most likely. He just got out of his pajamas, and got in some outside clothes. A hoodie. Some jeans. The simply clothing that he always wore. 

Wait. He forgot something.

He grabbed his notebook and ripped out a paper. Then, he got a pen.
[img=http://i.imgur.com/5Rjgj6X.png]
He left that on his bed, and walked out of the room casually. He slowly opened the door, and...walked out. He quickly closed it, and left his keys on the steps. Hooray. It was cold as shit. He walked to the left of him, down the dark streets of....whatever, notebook and pen in hand.

Maybe it wouldn't be bad.

Or maybe he wouldn't have any inspiration to write, and just wanted to get this started.