Taylor sighed sadly as she walked down the street, sketching in her notebook. 'Another day of school, another day spent in hell. Sure they're lightening up, but were the spitballs necessary?'

Coming to the opening of an alley, she gave it a contemplative look. 'This is out of my way... but if I keep going my normal route...' She swallowed heavily. 'Chances are they'll pick up on my habits and... best to shake it up, at least once.' And with those terrified thoughts, she folded her sketchbook under her arm and turned into the dark passage, doing her utmost best to act as unnoticeable as possible.

Rounding a corner in the alleyway, she froze in shock before quickly dashing to a nearby dumpster and pressing her back against it. 'Crapcrapcrap!' She silently screamed. 'Oh come on, I go out of my way to preemptively avoid Emma and she ends up being in the middle of analley!? How the hell is that fair!? And why is she here anyways!?'

The girl of her nightmares was standing in the dead center of the alley. She had a gym bag slung over her shoulder and was tapping her foot impatiently as she gazed up towards the top of the buildings. "Come on, come on..." She was muttering to herself. "Will you hurry up already? We'll be late!"

Taylor frowned in confusion. 'What... is she talking about? Who is she waiting for?'

The next instant, her heart nearly stopped as what appeared to be a cloud of living smoke fly down into the alley and land next to Emma. Then, the smoke coalesced into a humanoid shape.

Taylor could barely breath she was so shocked. 'S-shadow Stalker!? What the hell is she doing here!?'

Emma sighed and crossed her arms, pouting unhappily. "What the heck took you so long?"

"Sorry, sorry." Shadow Stalker admonished half-heartedly. She lowered her hood and reached behind her head, fiddling with a clasp on her mask and setting it free.

Then, she removed it.

Sophia Hess sighed with relief as she took her mask off, shaking her hair free. "That's better. Can't believe how stuffy it gets in there. Anyways, sorry. Miss Militia was riding my ass about 'excessive force' again. Seriously, Armsmaster might be bad about protocol, but she takes this stuff personally. Really gets annoying after the first few lectures, you know?"

Emma shrugged. "I can imagine. Now come on!" She held the gym bag open. "Get out of your costume before someone sees you and let's go! The reservation is soon and Dad doesn't want to wait!"

"Alright, alright, hold your horses." Sophia quickly stripped out of here uniform, exposing the civilian clothes she had on beneath. She then collapsed the crossbow she was carrying and stuffed it into the gym bag alongside the costume.

"Great! Now come on, let's go!" Emma exclaimed, grabbing Sophia by her elbow and starting to drag her out of the alley.

However, before they could get far, Sophia planted her feet. "Wait!"

Emma gave her an exasperated look. "Oh, what now?"

Sophia narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she looked down the alleyway. She slipped her arm out of Emma's grip. "I've got a funny feeling..."

Slowly, dauntingly, she prowled down the alley, like a great cat on the hunt. Reaching the dumpster, she rested her hand on it heavily, leaning forwards in an almost anxious manner.

Slowly, she started to lean around to face the other edge of the dumpster...

"Oh, enough already!"

"GRK!"

When she was yanked back by Emma grabbing her collar.

"My Dad payed good money for these reservations, and I'm not going to be late because you were being paranoid!"

Sophia growled in annoyance as she struggled in Emma's surprisingly strong grip. "You know, when I said you should act more aggressive, this isn't quite what I had in-ACK!"

And with that she was dragged off by her surprisingly assertive friend.

Taylor had her back pressed against the dumpster, her hand clamped over her mouth and terrified tears streaming down her cheeks. Her sketchbook lay forgotten at her side.

'Sophia is Shadow Stalker...' The words rang through her head with a kind of numb horror.'Sophia is Shadow Stalker. Shadow Stalker is a Ward. Sophia Hess is a Ward. This... this is why... the school... they won't help me... because she's a...'

Taylor slowly curled up, cradling her head in between her legs. "They're protecting her," she whispered. "They're protecting her. I... there's nothing I can do about it. This... this is never going to end. It's never going to end, I don't have anywhere I can go... I... what do I..."

Acting purely out of instinct, she fumbled her hand out for her sketchbook. Grabbing it, she quickly began drawing. There was no design, no rhyme or reason, just pure despair and fear rendered in a two dimensional form.

"What do I do..." She whispered. "What do I do, what do I do, what do I DO!?" Her voice climbed higher and higher into a shriek, her drawing become even more frantic and furious.

Suddenly, her pencil snapped in her hand.

Just as something snapped in the back of her mind.

"I'm never going to be free." There was no anger, no fear. Just grim acceptance. "I'm never going to be free and there's nothing I can do."

She felt the world close up around her. She felt, no, she was trapped. Nowhere to go, no chance at escape, and all around her was the worst filth imaginable.

And then... for the second time that day...

The world went mad.

Trajectory.

Agreement.

Taylor's body locked up, every muscle freezing instantaneously. Her pupils dilated as she tried to process what was happening.

Then...

Taylor gave a choked sob as she keeled over on her side, clutching the side of her head with her hand.

"W-what-!?" She whimpered painfully.

Noise.

Her world was filled with noise. Notes and melodies and songs and tunes and noises. An infinite amount, or very small, it was impossible to tell. All she knew was that there was a discordant clamor going on behind her eyes, drowning out all other sounds, drowning out her ownthoughts...

And it hurt. It wasn't like her head was about to split open, but it might as well be a step away. So much noise, so little control, it was almost insurmountable.

All Taylor could do was curl up on the ground, her sketchbook clutched tightly in her arms.

Unnoticed to her, a change began to come over the white paper, starting with where her fingers were clutching it. Slowly, color seeped out of her fingers. It flowed across the page, shifting and warping freely. There was no pattern to the movements, no logic. It thrashed and shifted, a frenzy of colorful liberty, ranging from the darkest of purples to the brightest of yellows.

Some would call it maddening.

Others beautiful.

It all went unnoticed by Taylor, who could only whimper in pain.

Unaware as to the fantastic gift she had been given.

Synesthesia

Overture

Worm/The World Ends With You