A/N: This story is an AU of the Pleasantville series. In theory, you could read it without knowing the series, but since the POV character is an OC-ish from that series, it may just be confusing. (The -ish is because he started as an expyish/crossoveryish of Leon from Resident Evil for the lulz and then things happened... I don't even know anymore.) Anyway, France/OC. Because again, things happened... Life is confusing, writing is doubly so.

Warning: Rocks Fall, Everyone Dies. Emphasis on the death.

Over and Over

Alternatively: "Fuck You, Happiness: A Tale of Zombies"

Two bullets.

That was all that was left.

He had two bullets and there were at least a dozen of them between them and the cabin. He could see it. He could see the cabin, less than a hundred yards away, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world.

He had two bullets.

"Cher..."

If he could just distract them and make a break for it... They were slow, so he should be able to outrun them. But he didn't know if he dared shoot. If they identified the source of the sound, then he and Francis would never make it.

"Cher?"

He couldn't risk it, not with so much riding on this. His friend's lives... If he could just get to that cabin...

"Leon!"

And that startled him out of his thoughts. He hurriedly glanced toward the zombies; they hadn't seemed to hear. Although the shout hadn't really been that loud, just enough to distract him from his panic. He turned his head toward Francis, who rolled his eyes at the look. "Stop thinking like that, cher. It's obvious what we have to do."

He was sitting in the dirt behind Leon, arm cradled to his chest. It was probably broken, as far as Leon had been able to tell. He'd wrapped it as well as he could, but it was obvious that it hadn't helped much. They were both a mess, bloodied and exhausted and shattered to pieces.

They were so close. Just a little farther and they'd be safe and the others would come back...

If he ran...

"You've only got a couple bullets left. There's no way you'd make it through them." Francis shifted his weight and winced as he jostled his arm. "I'll distract them..."

"No."

He huffed out an annoyed sigh. "We don't have a choice at this point."

"No. Absolutely not. If anyone's going to distract them, it's going to be me."

"Don't be an idiot. I'm hurt, I can't run as fast as you even if I wasn't hurt, and I have no idea how to defend myself with that." He made a vague motion toward the pistol. The only weapon he had left, practically useless at this point with only two bullets. "If one of us doesn't make it to the cabin, then everyone's dead. Gill, Antoine, Feli, Lovi, Ludwig, Ally, Mattie, Arthur. All dead for good." He shifted his weight again. "We're the only two left this round and I can't do it, so it has to be you."

He knew it was true. He knew it was true, but...

This was the fifth time. The fifth level in this fucked up game. The fifth time he'd seen his friends torn to shreds.

He'd made it this far with Francis. They'd been together from the start this time, fought off dozens of those things. He hadn't even seen the others. Not alive at least... He and Francis had been the only ones to make it to this point.

And he couldn't... He couldn't watch him be torn apart by those creatures.

"I'll come back. You just have to make it." And Francis had moved, wincing as he moved the injured arm. But he leaned forward and was cradled Leon's face in his palms. He was shaking, from pain or fear. Or both. "You just have to make it and we'll all be alive again. Gill and Antoine and everyone..."

He kept finding them. He wondered if that was part of this torture, the inevitability that he'd find them. Sometimes alive, but... Not often. And each round. Five times so far.

But Fran was alive right now. He'd been the first that Leon had found last time. He must have been alone... They were usually in pairs, different each time. They tried to find each other, but they'd only been entirely successful during the first round. After that, they'd find each other... But too late.

"Leon!" Fran was trying to keep his voice low enough that the zombie-creatures wouldn't notice them. He shook Leon's head, forcing him out of his thoughts again. "You have to do this! You have to! The others..."

That's what it came down to. The others.

He shook his head, reaching up and grabbing Francis's hands in his. "Listen, Fran, you need to get as far ahead of them as possible. If I run fast enough..." If he ran fast enough, he might save him. As soon as he stepped foot inside that cabin, this world-level would disappear and they'd be instantly transported to the beginning of the next. With the others.

Francis wouldn't have to die... Leon wouldn't have to hear the screams.

"Of course, cher." Fingers squeezing around his. "I'll get ahead of them. But you can't go until it's clear. Until you're sure you can make it, even if that means..." He hesitated and then continued, "We don't remember it. We don't remember what it feels like. It's just...dark."

Maybe they were lucky, then. He hadn't died yet. He'd always been there at the end, stepping through that door or following one of the others. He was good at this game. And because of that, he was the one who always had to see the others die... He was the one who always had to bring them back.

Fran breathed out, his hands still trembling as his grip tightening around Leon's. "Okay... Okay."

Leon moved forward, lips pressing against Fran's. He could taste blood. His or Fran's, at this point he had no idea.

And for a moment, Fran leaned forward and allowed the moment to hover there. Where they could almost forget...

But it couldn't last. He pulled back and smiled shakily, reaching forward to tousle Leon's hair, an attempted laugh. "Now you have to make it, cher. For the next one."

Then he pulled himself to his heels, crouching down to remain out of sight of the creatures...

Leon wanted to pull him down. He couldn't do this. He shouldn't be letting him do this.

But he couldn't move. He just knelt there, mud seeping into his knees as Fran slowly, slowly crept through the brush, keeping behind trees. Pausing for long moments when one of them seemed to sense a change.

Leon should be thinking, planning. But he had to watch. He couldn't let him do this without watching... Even when he moved out of sight, moving farther away. Out of range.

But then there was a scream. Blood-curdling scream of pain.

Leon almost rose to his feet. Instinct. He had to save him! He couldn't. He couldn't just sit here...

But they had heard it too. They were turning and moving, moving toward the sound. Toward Francis. A path was clearing.

And another scream, choked off. They were moving faster, sensing or smelling or whatever the fuck it was that they did. Sensing death. They would tear him apart, just like they'd done to the others.

He had to make it. He had to. He couldn't let that... He rose to his feet, waiting for just another moment. For them to move just a bit farther away...

And then he ran. His sneakers pounding against the grass and twigs snapping under his feet as he ran toward the cabin.

Safety. Life.

He knew they were following him. They'd heard the sounds of living being, but they were slow and the only thing he cared about now was reaching that door... Adrenaline, the only thing that kept him going.

There was one in front of the door, one he hadn't noticed. Waiting. He slowed, felt the weight of the pistol in his hand.

He was good at this game.

Brains splattered against the door. Brains, blood. The body crumpled. Dead. Un-alive.

He couldn't stop. He kicked it aside and grabbed at the frame, fingers digging into the cracks around the door. He could hear, but he didn't turn around. Fran had bought him time. Enough time. He pulled, the door moving just far enough for him to shove his foot inside the door.

And then there was blackness.

Silent, cold.

This is what it was always like. He wondered if this was what their deaths were like... If they waited here. And if he failed. Would they wait here forever? Cold. Alone.

Except that he wasn't alone.

"And it was you again! My, my... You're good at this."

Leon knew that his wounds had healed, the scrapes and cuts from thorns and branches. His gun was now filled with ammo, his clothes miraculously repaired. The exhaustion gone.

And he was standing in front of him, grinning. Always grinning. Tall and white-haired and with the face of a kindly grandfather. Except that grin...

Leon would have shoved his fist into that grin, but he already knew it didn't work. He was still tempted, but after the last time... He'd ended up with only half the ammo and right now... If he'd had more bullets...

The scream of agony was still echoing in his head.

"And you sacrificed your lover. That was a surprise. You do remember what I told you?"

"Fuck you."

The man sighed, looking almost saddened by the remark. "Now, Leon, I offered you an out. I didn't have to do that. This game can end whenever you wish it to end."

"Fuck. You."

"Do you really think you can last through four more levels? I warn you, the last are... quite a doozy shall we say. You can leave now if you wish. I'll even let you choose."

Leon wondered if it may be worth the reduction in ammo. If it weren't for the fact that his fist would pass right through the man.

He tilted his head, the smile widening. "You're interesting, Leon. Very interesting. Is it really worth it? You barely made it this time. You sacrificed your lover... You could save him. I'm offering you that option."

"No."

He wouldn't. This man had offered Leon the 'out' after the third round. 'You can leave...' he'd said. 'You can choose to leave. The game will be over. But, you may only leave after one of you has already died.' He'd laughed at Leon's horror, 'Isn't that gracious? The rest of you can leave, it'll just cost you one life.'

That was when Leon had attempted to punch him.

"That's a pity. You really are interesting, Leon. I'll be disappointed when you die."

And then he began to fade.

Always the same.

He faded and then the darkness began to list, shadows turning into objects. He was in a room, in a cabin. Empty besides a table caked with dust and a fireplace filled with ashes... He could hear pounding from somewhere nearby. Probably a horde of monsters trying to find a way inside. He wouldn't have long before they did.

And he was alone.

A/N: This maaaaaaaaaaaaaay become a longer fic someday. I have a plot in mind, I just also have 5 other novels on the backburner so... We shall see, shan't we?