person4: (girl talk)
[personal profile] person4
Title: The Rule-of-Three
Fandom: Planescape: Torment
Characters: The Nameless One and Morte
Requested by [livejournal.com profile] kneazles here (previously filled)
Notes: For June Fic-a-Day

He watched the zombie making its strange circuit around the room, fingering the scalpel he held in his hands. It was holding onto the Rule-of-Three, Morte had said. Even after its death, it was unable to let go of it.

Even after the explanation Morte had given, he didn't really understand it. Why the number three should really be more significant than any other numbers, why anyone would believe in it so strongly. Maybe he'd known once, but that knowledge was gone with every other memory he'd had.

He had killed all of the zombies in the room he'd been in without thinking twice about it, even after he'd found the one with the key. They were nothing, he'd thought. The empty shells of once-men, only worthy of the amount of attention it took to kill them because of the slim chance that they might be able to alert somebody who would be more of a threat to his presence. But this one...

The Rule-of-Three. A ridiculous sounding thing to believe in, a thing that he doubted the Dustmen would have planted into their zombies when they raised them since it wouldn't be any help with their work, so it had to have come from its time alive.

Empty shells, he'd thought, but maybe he'd been wrong.

Morte was looking at him, and he really recognized for the first time how expressive his face usually was for a fleshless skull now that he had a look on his features that was impossible to read at all. "Got a plan here, Chief, or are you just gettin' your kicks off of watching that mook shamble?" he asked.

He kept watching the zombie for a few minutes more, considering. Did this really matter? It was still just a dead thing, and it could still make things difficult for him (although, now that he wasn't immediately attacking he realized that it didn't actually even seem to be noticing his presence). Why shouldn't he kill it, and any others, just like the ones he'd seen before?

But it had something it believed in so strongly that even death couldn't shake it. The Rule-of-Three. And that was more than he had. Even the walking dead were less empty than he was.

He let the scalpel fall to the ground, mindless of the clatter that might call the attention of someone with more of a functioning mind. "Let's go. We can try to get out without killing anything else."

Morte's expression stayed blank for a moment, then he grinned cheerfully. "You're the boss here, Chief. Whatever you say."

July 2024

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