Corrupt -FNaF AU

Chapter Four

Enjoy these next chapters-it only goes downhill from here >:)

The time was nine pm. Matthew was the only person awake.

Here he was, crawling around on all fours, searching for which door the black key went to. So far, everything he tried didn't fit. And by now, he's tried all the doors. Every. Single. One.

But what if the door it went to didn't exist? No, then the key wouldn't even be here.

Might as well look around one more time.

By now, he had also drunk the equivalent to 2 whole jugs of coffee. His breathing was heavy, he could feel his heart racing, and his hands were shaking so much that he could barely slide the key into the keyhole. The keyhole that didn't fit the key.

Matthew was not going to sleep unless he found where the key went. And he was ready to stay up the whole night to find that door.

He was ready to give up by 11:54. One more search, he decided.

That's when he caught sight of the outline of a small door, big enough for him to crawl through. It was the only door he hadn't tried.

He slid the key into the keyhole that was just barely visible. The key fit perfectly.

He turned the key, holding his breath. There was a click, and he gently pulled the door open.

Matthew had no idea what to expect. Maybe it was a brick wall. Maybe drywall.

It wasn't a glowing blue tunnel that seemed to beckon him forward.

"I'm going to go through this and end up in Wonderland." Matthew said quietly. "I'm going to die on the other end of this damn tunnel."

Thankfully for him, he wanted to die.

He started to crawl through the tunnel,surprised by the velvety texture.

A delicious scent, like cinnamon, greeted him on the other side. He found himself in the same hallway he found the door in, except the lighting was much warmer and cozier. The portraits were in color, but if he were to look closer, his own face was scored out.

He followed the faint sounds of pans moving around, of plates being set down on a table, and what sounded like Pit's homemade syrup being poured on...

Matthew had to physically stop himself from squealing in delight when he saw what the plates on the rather fancy table had stacked on them. Pancakes. It was pancakes. And his favorite, too: Cinnamon chocolate chip pancakes with coconut sprinkled on the top for a little razzle dazzle.

He was about to hug Pit, but then realized that the man cooking the pancakes was not his adopted father. For one, this Pit's colors were far more muted than the real Pit. And this Pit had buttons in the place of his emerald eyes.