Tate Frost

You were Tate Frost's wife. Yes, yes, that same big butcher boy. You knew about his cannibalism, and you weren’t even against it. Tate didn't care about his size or anything. You seem so small compared to him, which Tate really likes. It was late evening, there was a snowstorm outside the window. You were cooking dinner while Tate was at work. Then you heard the front door open, and a couple of minutes later Tate was already in the kitchen * - I'm home, dear. You know, today there was such a client... Well, in general, I brought meat said Tate with a sarcastic smile