Dark Fate ∞ [Darko x Eden] UNFINISHED

Chapter 1

I look upon the Jorvik ocean and let my mind wander away. The current beneath the surface begins to flow faster as a breeze of wind brushes over the sea. I take a deep sigh and look up to the horizon. The clouds are grey and the temperature has fallen down to my definition of "fucking cold". It would be snowing soon. I wrap my jacket collar tighter around my neck and push my hands into the pockets. The weather is getting colder and I want to get back inside as soon as possible.

This is how it always is. Day after another. I would wake up early in the morning, go to work, come back home and spend the rest of the afternoon staring at the ocean. It has a calming effect on me, so strange you could call it magic. Same time the ocean makes me feel nauseous, scared, anxious. There is something so beautiful yet uncomfortable in it that I can't explain. My mother would tell me tales of a terrifying monster living deep in the bottom of the Jorvik sea, a creature so horrifying that my ancestors would only send their best sailors to the open sea and children were forbidden to even wade onto the shore water. As you could expect from any child, those tales were very real to me. But why does it fascinate me so much? Why do I want to - why do I crave to find out the secret of the sea so bad?
I close the door behind as I throw my winter boots to the corner of the hall. Slowly I slide down to the floor with my back against the wall. I'm exhausted. I have lived in this small flat in the heart of Jarlaheim for five years now but it still doesn't feel like home. It's just a temporary place for me to be, like a package waiting for delivery at the back of the post office - except that there was no delivery address written on me.
I peel myself out of the thick winter jacket to throw it into the same pile with my boots. I stare up at the clock on the wall, it's four in the afternoon. Work is over for today and I hear my stomach growl loudly in demand of a snack. Trying to keep up regular meal schedules has become impossible. Reluctantly I stand up and walk to the kitchen only to find out my fridge has gone empty despite an apple and a half empty milk carton. At least there is one good thing in this grey city - everything you need is just a stone's throw away. I grab the ragged leatherette wallet from my so-called living room's table - it's barely bigger than my bathroom - and start putting my shoes back on. Before leaving the house I take my backpack with me and step back into the dark evening.

The streets of Jarlaheim are empty during this time of the day. There aren't that many young adults living out here, they prefer large lively cities like Silverglade and New Hillcrest where nights are endless and music never stops. Introverted working grown-ups like me tend to stay in quiet neighborhoods where nothing ever changes. And the elders, oh the elders. They are so furious over their roots and families that they refuse to leave the Harvest Counties at all. It is clearly notable in their attitude toward newcomers. As a fresh 19-year-old graduated student I really had to learn to stand up for myself against their exclusive clique. Now after five years of coexistence they finally seemed to have accepted me within the community, with a safe pinch of salt of course. 
I arrive in front of a small corner shop, publicly known as the Crüe. The name sounds fancy but it is just an attempt to polish the city's backwardness. The white paint on its walls is peeling off and the little bell above the door clings loudly as I step in. The shop is pretty deserted, the only noise heard are the small frozen food freezers running and a mini radio on the cashier's counter playing  music on barely audible volume . As usual, I head my way to the back of the shop where all the sweets are placed. It has become a bad habit of me to be eating candies so much but there are only so few things I can enjoy in my days. I grab two packs of strawberry Twizzlers and a chocolate bar then continue to the bread department. On my way there I fill my arms with butter, milk and a bottle of yogurt. Shit, why didn't I take a basket, I curse to myself as I slowly struggle myself to the bread shelf. As I reach my arm to pick up a bag of cheese rolls, I see a familiar face approaching me from the right. I pray in my head that it would turn away from me but my prayers are not answered. The figure stops next to me and forces me to look at its direction before saying anything.
"Eden!" 
It's Trevor. He's a creepy old guy who works at Crüe, has worked ever since I was a newcomer in Jarlaheim. There was something awkward about him, maybe it was the way how he had always been so strangely interested in me. I've never dared to ask him but he must be around his thirties. His mahogany curly hair is waving over his chestnut eyes as he looks at me with a side smile. Trevor's not very tall, he's barely taller than me - I'm somewhere around 170 cm - and today he seems to be wearing loose blue jeans, a light grey button down and a black cardigan. His stylish appearance made it clear he didn't actually live here, he was just a university student doing a side job at the Crüe. I force a smile on my face as I greet him.
"Do you  need help with those?" Trevor nods to my direction and looks down onto the mountain of groceries on my arms. As much as I hate to admit it, I really do. He steps forward to pick up the milk cartons then ruffles my hair as he chuckles and takes the cheese roll bag off my hand. "You're still not much of a talker, huh? Well anyway, is there anything else you'd need - or want perhaps?"
I feel a lump of disgust roll over in my stomach as I hear the flirty tone in his voice. I want to get back home as soon as possible so I shake my head and start heading to the cash desk. I lay my stuff on the counter and start digging the wallet from my bag. Trevor adds in the milk cartons and moves to the back of the desk starting to register the bar codes onto the computer.
"14,50 Jorvik shillings please." Trevor says as he starts packing the groceries in a plastic bag. For some reason he feels the need to pack them for me on his every shift ignoring the fact I have my own backpack with me. I hand him the money in return and refuse another eye contact to avoid any awkward conversations. "There you go, Eden. Be safe, you never know what kind of people could be roaming the streets these days."
"I'm not a teenager, Trevor. I can look out for myself. Have a good evening", I answer sharply as I leave. Outside the door I realize I forgot to buy apples but the thought of encountering Trevor again sounds worse than living a few days without fruits.
Back at home I push the groceries on the table and start organizing them in the fridge. As I close the fridge door, something flashes past my window in the corner of my eye. I walk closer to the window and brush through the darkness but I can't see anything out of the ordinary. The streetlight behind my window reflects its dim yellow light onto the street as I try to look for a possible figure sneaking around. I can't spot anything so I pull the curtains closed and open a pack of Twizzlers on the table. I decide to ignore the strange flash and blame it on my extreme exhaustion. It's getting close to six o'clock and I have decided to spend the rest of the evening in bed watching Netflix.