Corrupt -FNaF AU

Chapter Five

"Welcome home, dearie!" The real Pit never called him dearie, it was always baby or Mattie. If Matthew was in his right mind, he would have remembered that.

"Hi, Pit." he shakily answered.

"Oh, no, dearie, I'm not Pit, you can call me Alter Pit!" Alter Pit chirped. "Come here, I just made pancakes!"

Matthew hesitantly went to the table, taking a seat.

He picked up the fork, cutting off a piece of the pancake and biting into it.

The taste was off. The cinnamon didn't taste like cinnamon. The syrup tasted like metal. The pancakes were dry and flavorless.

Yet it was somehow the best thing Matthew had ever tasted.

"This is so good!" He squealed happily.

"Well, I'm glad." Alter Pit's Southern accent was much more faint. The strange tattoo on the side of his neck was gone. His nose wasn't crooked.

This was the Pit Matthew had been secretly wanting. A better looking Pit.

Matthew quickly ate up the rest of the pancakes while Alter Pit watched him. It was a little creepy, but again, Matthew wasn't thinking.

"Thank you for the food, Alter Pit." Matthew smiled gratefully at the man.

"Oh, no problem, darling." Pit would never call him that. "You look tired, do you need to rest?"

Matthew lit up. More often than not, Matthew was the one that had to force his dad to sleep.

Alter Pit gently grabbed his hands, then led him upstairs and stopped at the entrance to Matthew's room.

"Good night, dearie, I'll see you tomorrow." Alter Pit told him, leaving downstairs again.

Matthew smiled after him, going into his room. This room was more vibrant and comfier. On his desk was the perfect computer, already open to do whatever he needed.

He closed it and hugged it close to his body as he laid down on the soft bed. His mind wandered as he drifted into the best sleep he's had in years.

Matthew sat up, only to find the room colors to be muted and bland again.

"Damn." He swore out loud. He was right back in his own world, not in that perfect one.

At least he still had that computer. He got up, setting the laptop on his desk.

Suddenly he wished he hadn't.

He looked carefully at his hands. The skin was replaced with soft velvet, yellow ochre in color. Thick, lighter colored stitches tied together the felt and the skin. It was like someone cut a line around his wrist and peeled the skin off from there.

Matthew was this close to fainting.

I'm dreaming. This isn't real. He stared at his hands, horrified.