When he opened his eyes, he was still on the bed. The room was dark, which was nice to his sore eyes.
Ah'Ming pushed himself upright and yawned, spine popping in a way that felt deeply earned. Mmmmmm.
How nice.
And then blinked as the scent of the sea hit him like a freight train.
"What the actual f—"
He cut himself off, sitting there as the fog in his brain scrambled to reorganize.
No, did he oversleep?
Crap.
Oh dear.
At least he wasn't dead, which was always a bonus. If it wasn't an insta-kill scenario, maybe he was being transported to a punishment scenario? Clearly something related to the ocean. Maybe he'd even get to meet eldritch monsters or something.
However,
…That was a problem for future him.
Present him, on the other hand, was exhausted.
"At least I'm not dead," he mumbled, rolling onto his side. "That's still my favorite status effect."
He lied back down, and went back to sleep.
Ah'Ming pulled the blanket up, turned his face into the pillow, and closed his eyes.
The sea could wait.
He ignored the constant pings from the system.
Little bunny, bunny dear~
Open up the door right here~
Quick, oh quick, and open wide~
Let me in to come inside~
A haunting melody filled the air, at odds with the harsh smell of the sea.
Ah'Ming shifted in his bed.
Like a broken record player, the song drifted without stop. It repeated what it had sung just a moment ago.
Little bunny, bunny dear~
Open up the door right here~
Quick, oh quick, and open wide~
Let me in to come inside~
What, did the monster have dementia or something? Oh wait, it probably wanted the response.
He shifted, blinking blearily.
"No, no, no, I won't, I say,
Mama bunny's gone away.
Till my mommy's back once more,
No one can come through this door."
After, he tucked himself back into bed.
A different player, far away, accidentally agreed to the devil's deal. They were also in their bed, in a dark little room. A large shadow was under the door frame.
The poor player had no idea what the nursery response was, and could only watch helplessly as his mouth moved on its own.
Little crab, oh little crab~
Open up the door, dear chap~
Hurry now and open wide~
Let me in, come let me inside~
He tried to cover his mouth with his hands, sticking even the edge of a blanket into his mouth, but it was no use. He could taste blood in his mouth, from how his tongue was bit due to the non-stop movement of his jaw.
"I will, I will, I will, okay?
I'll open up the door today."
He took staggering steps forward, sobbing inside his mind. At this point, none of his limbs belonged to him.
The doorknob was cold, and once it was twisted, he could only come face to face with a large, golden eye.
He was still singing, until he couldn't.
The door was left open, the floor stained red, and a little bit more crooning from the shadows under the bed.
Poor little crab, so sad and small,
He never got to come back to home at all.
A few hours later, Ah'Ming finally woke up. He stretched his arms over his head, hearing every joint in his spine pop.
He reluctantly got out of the bed, trudging off with every step. The room was different, far smaller and far dustier as well.
He opened the door, and found himself in the hallway of a building dark and damp. Huh. So it really was being transported to a punishment instance, not sudden death. That was a very good thing for him, though.
Ah'Ming supposed he should have put on an alarm before going to bed, but he truly had been tired at the time. Plus, did the system even come built in with a timer? He tried to check, but every part of the system was greyed out.
He poked around, noticing how even though the building was old, it definitely had the marks of once being very lived in. Scuff marks were littered under random chairs, and the books on the shelves all had dog-eared pages.
This was a space where many people had once lived together, for a long time. Based on some toys he had found, Ah'Ming guessed it was some sort of orphanage. Resorts probably didn't have orphanages, so the punishment instance wasn't a substory.
He made his way to what he assumed was the living room, and noticed a schedule pinned to the board. The paper was yellow, but the handwriting was still legible. In a nice, near unreadable cursive, it read:
6:00 Wake up
7:00 Breakfast
8:00 Lessons
11:00 Playtime
12:00 Lunch
The rest, however, was smudged out. A shame.
Ah'Ming didn't know what time it was though. He tried to enter the kitchen, only to find the door blocked. He knew it was the kitchen because it had a sign on it.
A large bell rang in a melody, ending with eleven chimes. Oh. Playtime, was it? He wondered what would happen.
A child's voice sang this time.
Searching, searching, for a friend,
I found a good one in the end.
I gave a bow and shook their hand