His Name's Not Alice

Help Us

The nights of the week had been long, minimal sleep to be found to the point where no one wanted to wake him up when he did finally fall asleep. However since they left him alone, Kevin was thrown into a frantic hurry the moment he woke up and saw that he was late for sound check. Still in a tired fog, he quickly stumbled out of his bunk and began rushing around the bus to try and meet the guys inside, finding a sweatshirt and pulling it over his head after putting on his shoes. In the process of looking for clothes, he had knocked something out of his bunk that he couldn't quite remember putting in there to begin with. It was a journal that had appeared on the bus mixed in with all of their fan gifts, however none of them could remember receiving it or where they got it. It was simple, leather bound with the image of a rose on the cover that was swirled half red and white. Everyone wanted to know what was inside, but no matter how hard they pried, they couldn't get it to come open. So in the process of pulling on his sweatshirt, Kevin took a step back and caught his foot on the book. He tripped over the object, falling back and landing hard on the floor while letting out a string of choice profanities. His eyes fell on the book and he grimaced a bit, slowly standing back up.

"Stupid book. Why the hell is it still here?..." He grumbled, stepping forward and kicking it a bit. It slid a few inches along the floor of the bus before stopping abruptly and suddenly opening. The pages flipped quickly and he watched them stop at the middle, slowly and a bit cautiously moving closer to it. As he leaned over the journal and looked down into the open pages, ink started to seep into the unmarked paper. 'Help us.'

"Nope. I'm not helping you. Time for you to go away." He muttered, reaching down and picking up the journal. He tried to force it closed, but it wouldn't budge, refusing like it had before when they tried to open it. Again, the pages spilled more ink and reiterated the same phrase underneath. "..Alright weird voodoo journal, stop spelling creepy shit. I'm not doing this..." By now, he was more than a bit unsettled, not sure what was happening, but not liking any of it. The pages started flipping rapidly again in his hands, causing him to hold the book further out from his face. The air from the force was a lot stronger than it should have been and he tried to turn away from it and took another big step back. The pages stopped abruptly and he hesitantly looked back down into it, the page on the left spilling more ink. 'Through the looking glass.' He quickly started to shake his head, realizing it was less of a statement and more of an order at this point. The page on the right quickly became glossy before becoming a mirror and showing his reflection. Kevin held the book up to eye level and looked at himself before his eyes fell behind him. The mirror on the door had started to glow and he started shaking his head again. "Fuck this! Close! Close!" He practically begged, trying to force it once again. As his eyes moved back to the small mirror, he watched the glass behind him ripple a bit before a white-gloved hand reached out and rested on his shoulder. The fingers wound into his sweatshirt and quickly pulled, sending him falling back through the glass. The journal fell out of his hands and landed on the floor again before closing once more and sealing itself shut.