Well, here's a new story for you.

Sort of inspired by the Resident Evil games and David Moody's Autmn series. But mine has a little twist and a few differences from the two of them.

So yes. Whee. I hope you enjoy this one. XD

Dedication? Yes. To Maxi-chan (currently Morbid Maxwell) Anyway, it's dedicated to her because whenever I think of Deon or Cole… I think Maxi-san. I dunno why. Hm.

Praeoccupor Morte is a latin word meaning to fall prey to death. Yeah… stupid title. XD I can't even pronounced it so I'll just call it PM for short… I should probably make a title I can actually say, hm?

Oh and don't worry I'll update The Dorm today, too. ;D

Praeoccupor Morte

I sighed, changing back into my waiter uniform, just getting back from dancing. God this job sucked. I sighed, grabbing my tray. I hate that damn uniform. The leather pants were way too tight, and that choker gave me rashes. That's all a wore.

Yeah, that's my life. My name is Deon Rodriguez, and I'm… well… a male stripper. At least… I used to be. Before the whole walking-dead-disease-stuck-in-a-mall-screwing-a-convicted-killer scenario. Let me just tell you it from the beginning.

So, like I said, I was changing into my waiter uniform. A few people around me were coughing, but I didn't really care. Somebody was always hacking up a lung.

I sighed, grabbing my tray and walking out, putting on my fake sweet smile.

Ladies. Night. SUCKS. Let me tell you. They're shrieking and grabbing and just… God it pisses me off.

I walked over to a table, smiling at a group of women. "Hi, have you been served yet?"

One of the women giggled. "No. Not in any way…" She said, grabbing the belt loop of the leather pants and pulling me close.

My smile faultered. "I'm sorry. I have a strict look but don't touch," I wrenched her hand off of my pants, "policy. Sorry."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"Yeah… what do you need?" I shook my head, deciding to rephrase that. "What do you need to drink. As in alcohol."

"… Hm. I'll have vodka."

"Oh, um… let's see…" She held up the drink menu, and I just rolled my eyes. "Just a Heineken."

"I'll take a Bloody Mary."

"Shirley Temple."

"AH!" I held up my hands. "I only write so fast. Please…" I sighed, jotting all the drinks down. "Okay."

"I'll have a scotch, that's all."

"And you?" I asked, after jotting down 'scotch', looking at a shy looking woman.

"Oh… just… um… do you have soda?"

"Er… um… no. Well, I do but not the bar. Um… All I have is Pepsi though." I said, smiling. This girl was at least nice.

"Oh! No, it's all right! I don't want to make you give up yours."

"I have a cooler in back. I'll just snag you one. But you can't tell…" I said, lowering my voice.

All the women giggled and nodded and I walked up to the bar, sighing. "Mike!"

"Yo." The bartender spun around. God, he was gorgeous. He had stunning green eyes and his blonde hair fell in wisps in front of his face. He tossed his head to get his bangs out of his eyes. "Orders, right?"

I nodded, handing him the note. I couldn't help but stare, feeling stupid. I swear I'm blessed getting to know that man.

He smiled at me, shaking his head. "What?"

"N-Nothing. I was… just… do women grab at you, too?" Okay, stupid cover-up. So sue me.

"Yeah. Sometimes. I'd hate having your job." He laughed, getting the drinks. "When they're crazy drunk."

I nodded stupidly. Well. That went well. I think. He set the drinks on the counter and I lifted my tray, setting the drinks there so they'd balance.

"Hey, Deon."

I stopped, looking up. "… Yeah…?"

"You doing anything after work?"

"Um… No. Just going home to spend time with my couch and a TV dinner." I blinked. Was this… it? He was… gay…?

"You want to have a real dinner? I think I get off about half an hour before you. I'll wait."


"Okay." I smiled. "I'll see you at eleven, then."

"Sounds good." Mike smiled, and I walked away with a grin on my face. Life isn't so bad all the time.

So… why does it have to end?

I walked to the table, setting down the drinks. "I'll get your Pepsi in a—" One of the women cut me off, standing up abruptly and grabbing her chest. "… Ma'am? You all right?" I asked, setting down my tray.

She suddenly shrieked causing us all to jump, and fell to the ground. She seemed to be writhing with pain as I bent down to set her head in my lap. "Hey! GET A DOCTOR!! HURRY!!" I shouted, seeing Mike dive for the phone next to the bar.

Mike… was next. He had the same reaction she did, and I jumped up, running to him. The other girls tended to the woman. "MIKE!" I leaped over the counter, and everyone was silent as the music played. I heard another scream as another person fell to the ground.

"What the fuck?!" I snapped, putting my hand on Mike's chest. "Mike! It's okay! It's all right! Calm down, you'll be fine!"

But he wouldn't be fine. He gasped one final breath of air, then fell limp.

I stared. I swallowed, shaking him. "M-Mike…?" I blinked, feeling his pulse.


I shrieked, trying to jump back but smacked my head on the bar counter. I yelped, holding my head and desperately crawled away. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I shouted, scrambling up. My eyes widened at the sight.

Nearly everyone was writhing on the ground or already dead. I started shaking, staring at Mike's corpse.


That word ran through my mind until I broke down in a shriek of sobs. So I was acting like a girl, so what?! I have a phobia. The fear of death. Er… Nec… nec… necrophobia…? I think that's what it's called.

I bent behind the bar in the corner, sobbing. What the hell is happening?! I thought, over all the screaming and yelping and writhing.

I don't know how long I sat there. I don't know anything. I couldn't… think other than corpse.


I gasped. I know that voice. I sprung up, smacking my head again, but I ignored it. "HEY!" I said, pointing to the woman from before. The one who wanted Pepsi instead of alcohol.

"Oh my god, I thought—" She didn't finish before she ran over and I leaped from behind the bar. We hugged tightly. We didn't know each other… but I think that in that hug we found peace for a few moments. It was just good to know someone wasn't dead.

"… You… still want that Pepsi?" I said into her shoulder, not letting go. Lame joke but… I had to break the silence.

I got her to laugh. "Actually, I do." She stepped back. She, too, had been crying. "Umm… what's your name?"

"Deon Rodriguez."

"You're Spanish?"

"Uh… part." I said, blinking. "Your name?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Audrey Worth. I can't believe I'm here… my friends dragged me." She said, talking as if everything were all right. "I'm just a High School science teacher. They told me I need to get out more."

"… Ah. I'm a stripper." I said stupidly. "… That's about it." Audrey laughed again, shaking her head. "All right, let's go get that Pepsi and get someone to help us…"

Audrey nodded, following me to the back. She blinked at the racks of costumes, going through them. She giggled. "Nice little cop outfit! Who wears it?"

"I wear it… usually." I mumbled, throwing open the top of the cooler. I rooted through the beer to get out two Pepsis.

Audrey wasn't paying attention, just listing all the outfits as if I didn't know what they were. I've probably worn them all. "… a barbarian, a doctor, a fireman, Zorro, a musketeer… These are so kinky!"

"Well, yeah." I raised an eyebrow. "They're for strippers."

"Yeah, but there kind of cute, too."

I don't know why we talked like that. I think it was to get our minds off all the dead. For me, it was working. It seemed that way for Audrey, too.

We walked out the back door onto one of the deserted roads in the city. A homeless man lay dead down the streets, probably the same way as the others.

"What do you think happened?" She asked, as we walked to the bigger street. I didn't look up from my feet as we walked.

"… I dunno. I just… want to find someone alive other than us." I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Audrey nod in agreement. She gasped, and I reluctantly lifted my head. "Fuck no."

The whole street was littered with dead bodies. Some cars smashed into buildings or each other. There were people who may have been survivors, if not for the cars that had crushed them. I gasped, shaking again.

"Oh my God…" Audrey breathed, and knelt by me as I started bawling again. "Oh! Deon! I know there's so many bodies but—"

"I'm terrified of dead things! I have a phobia of them!" I choked out. Audrey pulled me to her and I cried into her stomach as though I were a child and she were my mother. I think we stayed like that for hours… before Ajeet found us.

What do you think? Other than I have to stop coming up with ideas for stories before I finish my other ones. Shut up, I know. T-T But I've had this story in my head just about as long as The Dorm.

This'll probably be the longest chapter. 6 pages. :D WOOHOO

Anyway, did they seem too… I dunno, not caring? Like they joked too much? Or what? Constructive criticism greatly appreciated. If you're just gonna flame about how it sucks but talk in circles about HOW it sucks……… just go away. No one wants you.

I was going to name it Necrophobia, because of the main character's fear but… one of my friends has that title for one of hers and I didn't want to steal it. So I went with Praeoccupor Morte (to fall prey to death) instead, because of how most the people die. Yes indeedy.

Preview: (because I know you'll love me if I put one :D) Deon and Audrey meet Ajeet, hoping he knows something about what happened. He just says something about Allah and they get in Audrey's van to find any more survivors. But in this sea of bodies, who knows who is dead or alive? Who knows who is napping or taking an endless slumber?

(er… that sounds really stupid. Sorry for my sucky preview T.T)