Tate Frost x AFAB reader, Gender neutral pronouns used.
TW For violence, slight Stockholm Syndrome, and descriptions of raw meat (pretty much stuff from the actual game)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You shivered in your place, breath coming out in hazy puffs as your chest was pressed against the cold wall of the freezer. A million thoughts ran through your mind, slowly beginning to settle into the memories from earlier.
You had stopped at the small store to stock up on supplies for your new home. It was heavily snowing outside, and the worry of being snowed in with no supplies was eating at your nerves. Thanking your lucky stars that the run-down-looking shop was open, you pulled into the parking lot and parked your car.
You pocketed the keys, closed the driver's side door, and took in the space before you. Only a few cars were in the parking lot, An old pickup truck with a dark liquid seeping from the back. It most likely belonged to a seasoned hunter. The other was a green sedan, with duct tape covering a few noticeable dents.
The weather finally caught up to you, the cold nipping at your exposed skin as a few snowflakes got tangled in your eyelashes. You wrapped your coat around you tighter, briskly heading towards the shop doors. You cringed slightly as the automatic doors creaked open, allowing you to wander inside.
It wasn't much warmer in the store, but it was definitely less windy than outside. The dim lighting inside the building cast a rather eerie glow over everything, rows of shelves stocked to the brim with products filled the open area. It was your average grocery store.
You turned your attention to a rather bored-looking teen, eyes glued onto a magazine as he lazily flipped through the pages. You study his nametag, which was barely visible underneath his coat. Vic. An interesting name.
"Hey, out of townie, you gonna buy something or just stand there? Cause if you're just gonna stand there, I might as well give you a job as a coat rack."The teen's eyes never left the magazine as he spoke.
You were taken aback by his blatant rudeness, putting on a warm smile and adjusting your coat.
"Hey, do you mind telling me where the meat section is?"
You were greeted with no response. Vic simply stood in silence, still half-heartedly glancing through his magazine. You felt frustration bubbling in your chest, simply giving a displeased sigh. He finally responded with a dead tone.
