Total Resident Evil
by KeyBladeWarrior56
Summary: During Total Drama World Tour, an accident strands the 17 teenagers, host, and chef in the middle of rural Russia. What starts off as a search for help quickly becomes a nightmarish fight for survival...
Warning: This fanfiction will contain harsh swearing, bloody and intense violence, and character death. Who knows, I might even throw a bit of sexuality in the mix. Now, you'd probably expect a story like this to be rated M, and it will be. But for now, since the first few chapters aren't that bad (with only a little language and violence), the story will be rated T. When things get more intense, the rating will change.
Disclaimer: If I owned Total Drama, the garbage known as TDDDDI and Total Drama Action would not exist. But alas, I don't, and they do. Sigh.
Total Resident Evil
Prologue: The Accident
On a heavily forested Russian mountainside, driving along an old dirt road, was an RV. But this was no ordinary RV. For one thing, it was the size of a semi-truck. Also, painted on the sides of the RV was the grinning face of reality show host and badminton-themed zombie movie star Chris McLean. The RV was known as the Chrismobile, and it was the RV being driven around the world for the third season of the popular Total Drama franchise; Total Drama World Tour.
If you're wondering why an RV is being used to travel the world instead of a plane, as originally announced, allow me to explain. We all know that during the Celebrity Manhunt TV special, when Chris and Chef announced Total Drama World Tour, the entire nose of the plane they planned on using fell off. As it turns out, that wasn't the only problem with the plane. After the nose was fixed up and the group tried flying to Russia, the plane made it across the Pacific Ocean before technical problems forced the plane to land in the Russian city of Yakutsk. As they tried to fix up the plane, both wings fell of, the engines explodes, the landing gear broke off, and the toilet somehow burst into flames. With their main mode of transportation out of the question, Chris went with plan B; traveling the world in an RV. It wasn't the same, but the show must go on, after all.
But, I digress. Let's return to the story, shall we?
On-board the Chrismobile, in the RV's living area, were the 17 seventeen-year olds competing in Total Drama World Tour, each person occupied with their own business. Noah was in the middle of Stephen King's latest book, "Blockade Billy". Ezekiel was in the middle of his own book; "Teen Slang for Dummies". Cody and Harold were in the middle of an intense, action-packed battle to the death.
"Pikachu, use Thunderbolt!"
"Blaziken, use Overheat! Gosh!"
Owen was at the snack bar, scarfing down all the food in sight. DJ, Tyler, Duncan, and newcomer Alejandro were playing pool, the latter formulating devious plans for winning the one million dollar grand prize.
Two others thinking of evil plans were Heather and Courtney, who were seated on opposite sides of the RV, each reading a magazine. Lindsay, without her usual BFF Beth, was making small talk with the other newcomer, Sierra.
"Omigosh, I can't believe were going to see Moscow!" Lindsay gushed.
"I know, right?" Sierra replied. "It's going to be so much fun!"
"Eee, I know! I can't wait to see all the sights that make Moscow famous; the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Arc de Trident-"
"That's Paris, you idiot! Not Moscow!" Heather snapped from across the room.
Gwen, LeShawna, and Bridgette were having a conversation, enjoying each others company. Izzy was in the middle of her own battle, up against an opponent she had been trying to defeat for the last four hours. Finally, Courtney had had enough.
"Izzy!" she snapped. "Will you knock it off? I'm telling you, it's impossible to lick your elbow!"
"But I have to!" Izzy replied, glaring at her own elbow, which she held close to her face. "Look at it. It's just sitting there... mocking me!" She stuck her tongue out at her elbow again, but once again failed to lick it. She growled. "Just you wait! I will lick you one day!"
And in the driver's seats in the front of the RV were the host and co-host of Total Drama World Tour; Chris McLean and Chef Hatchet, driving the RV towards the site of the first episode of TDWT; Moscow, Russia. Well, Chef was the one doing all the driving. Chris was just staring at his reflection in his hand-held mirror, his feet propped up on the dashboard.
"Wow," Chris mused, grinning into the mirror. "I am ridiculously handsome."
Chef Hatchet rolled his eyes. Luckily, Chris was too preoccupied with his reflection to notice.
"How long do you think it'll be before we reach Moscow, Chef?"
"Should take us another two or three days," was Chef's reply.
"Coolio," Chris pulled out a pocket comb and started fixing his hair. "This is going to be the greatest season ever!"
"As long as it's better than Total Drama Action was."
Chef noticed that the sun was nearly down; it was barely peeking over the distant mountains, and the sky was dyed a deep shade of violet, almost totally black. "Yo Chris, it's getting late. You want me to stop for the night?"
"Nah," Chris shook his head. "Keep going. We're already way behind schedule, and I wanna reach Moscow as soon as possible."
Chef shrugged as he made a left turn on the dirt road. "Whatever you say, Chris. But if I start dozin' off at the wheel, I'm gonna havta' st – HOLY SHIT!!"
Chef's outburst made Chris drop his mirror and comb in shock. Without his reflection to stare at, Chris looked out the front window, and saw what had startled Chef. A large moose – bigger than the one at Camp Wawanakwa – was standing in the middle of the road, staring at the oncoming vehicle, and making no attempt to move.
"Look out!!" Chris screamed. His hands flew to the steering wheel and violently turned it right, at the exact moment Chef did the same. The RV sharply turned right, narrowly avoiding the moose. Unfortunately, the sharp turn sent the RV flying down a hill.
"GAAAAAHHH!!" both Chris and Chef screamed as they clung to each other in fear. The RV barreled down the hill at very high speeds. Anything in its path; bushes, rocks, small animals, small trees – hell, even moderate sized trees were no match for a 60-mile-an-hour, 10-ton recreational vehicle.
The occupants inside the bus were doing no better than the nature in the RV's path. One minute, the teenagers were enjoying a quiet evening on the bus, reading, playing games, or socializing (or trying to lick their own elbow, in the case of Izzy), and the next minute, they're all being tossed around like screaming rag dolls. Several were lucky, as they were simply thrown against the wall or floor. Others were not so fortunate; Bridgette was brained by Noah and Ezekiel's flying books, Duncan was pinned against the wall by the pool table (which had slammed into him when the RV turned), DJ took a bar stool to the face, and Courtney... Well, Owen landed on her, so it's safe to say that she isn't doing too good.
Finally, the RV's rampage came to an end when it crashed into a huge tree; a tree almost as wide as the entire RV. The front window shattered, raining broken glass down on Chris and Chef, who were both pushed back against their seats by the airbags. In the room behind them, the seventeen teens were jolted around one last time before coming to rest.
For a minute, the forest was silent. The only sounds that could be heard were the chirping of crickets, the growls and other emissions of nocturnal animals, and the quiet hiss of steam that rose up out of the smashed front of the Chrismobile.
That silence was broken be the frustrated grunting of Chef Hatchet as he pushed the airbag back. After he pushed the airbag back enough to move, he unbuckled his seat belt and gave himself a once-over. He didn't feel anything broken, nor any intense pain... aside from a few cuts and scrapes, it looked like Chef was okay.
After he was sure he was alright, Chef looked over at Chris, and his eyes went wide in shock and worry. Chris was slumped up against the seat, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open, blood leaking from a nasty gash in his head.
Fearing the worst, Chef pushed Chris's airbag away and felt his neck for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he found one; Chris was still alive, just unconscious.
Now that he was certain that the man who signs his paychecks was okay, Chef climbed over the driver's seat and opened the door to the RV's living area, where all the contestants were at the time of the crash. The living area was a mess, with chairs, tables, books, magazines, food, pool balls, pool cues, and groaning teenagers scattered around the floor.
"You kids alright?" Chef asked.
"I... I think so..." DJ said, slowly lifting himself off the floor, gently rubbing the bruises on his face. He was one of the first to get up, being a high-school football star who used to being knocked around. When he saw Duncan sandwiched between the pool table and the wall, his eyes went wide. "Oh man, Duncan!" DJ quickly pushed the pool table away, and Duncan fell to the floor, groaning and clutching his stomach in pain.
"What the fuck happened?" Heather asked rudely as she got up, clutching her head and hissing in pain.
"There was a goddamn moose in the middle of the road," Chef explained as he help Owen off Courtney, who groaned in pain and held her leg.
"Something tells me that hitting the moose would have been better than this," Alejandro muttered as he fixed his messed-up hair.
By now, most of the teenagers had gotten up, allowing Chef to get a good look at them; most of them were okay, save for a few cuts, scrapes, bruises, and bumps. A few, however, were in bad shape; Duncan was still on the floor in the fetal position, Noah was unconscious, Courtney's leg was probably broken in several places, and LeShawna had a nasty gash running up the side of her arm, which Harold was patching up with the aid of a torn cloth.
"Where's Chris?" Bridgette asked, cleaning her own cuts.
"He's in the front seat," Chef explained, opening the door to the outside. "He's out cold, but otherwise okay. C'mon, let's check the damage."
All of the campers, save for Duncan and Noah, were outside the bus with Chef (Courtney had been carried out by Owen, the larger boy apologizing every other second for landing on the CIT), inspecting the damage to the RV. It was far worse than any of them had expected; the wheels had shredded, the axles had cracked, all of the windows had shattered, and the front of the RV had been absolutely totaled by the tree.
"I think it's safe to say that this bus isn't going anywhere," Harold said.
"Great," Alejandro groaned, kicking the side of the Chrismobile in frustration. "Just fucking great! We're stuck in the middle of nowhere!"
Chef tapped his chin in thought. "Maybe not," he said, failing to notice that Cody had wandered off. Chef turned to Heather and Lindsay. "You two have cell phones, don't you? Can you call for help?"
Heather and Lindsay already had their phones out and were fiddling with them before Chef could finish asking. The queen bee shook her head.
"It's no good," Heather said with a sigh. "I've got zero bars out here."
Chef looked to Lindsay, who also shook her head. The large cook groaned.
"Well, now what do we do?" Gwen asked darkly, leaning against the bus and crossing her arms. "The RV is trashed, and there's no civilization for miles."
"Don't be too sure about that, Gwen," the teens heard Cody call from somewhere close by. "Come check this out!"
The teenagers and Chef followed the sound of Cody's voice, pushing their way through some trees and shrubs. They found Cody standing in the middle of a clearing, looking down at the valley below. What they saw made them gasp.
In the center of the valley was a moderate-sized village. There were lights on in many of the small houses, and smoke rose up from many of the chimneys. Beyond the village was an enormous, fortress-like castle, much larger than the village itself.
"You found a town," Courtney muttered, looking at Cody in shock. The tech geek smiled proudly, then cried out in shock as someone pulled him into a tight hug.
"Cody, you're a genius!" Sierra gushed, holding the blushing Cody close. "You found civilization! We're saved!"
"The only question is..." Tyler began, looking up at Chef. "How are we going to get there?"
Chef tapped his chin in though for another minute, looking down at the teenagers he was in charge of, then down at the village. "I think I have an idea..."
"We're going to split up into two teams," Chef explained to the teens as he filled a backpack up with supplies. They were back in the RV's living area, packing for their journey to the village. Owen and DJ had pulled mattresses from the sleeping area out into the living area, and Chris, Noah, Duncan, and Courtney were now resting on them. "One team will stay behind on the bus, taking care of the wounded. The other – led by myself – will head down to that village and get help."
"And who's going where, exactly?" Bridgette asked.
"My team will be goth girl, surfer chick, crazy girls one and two, nerds one and two, brick house, no-skilled jock, and home-school," Chef told them, referring to Gwen, Bridgette, Izzy, Sierra, Cody, Harold, DJ, Tyler, and Ezekiel.
"What?!" Courtney snapped. "Y-you can't leave me behind!" She started to get up. "I used to be a CIT, remember? I know how to navigate in the fores-" Courtney's speech came to an end when she tried to stand up and intense pain shot through her leg. She screamed in pain and fell to the floor.
"You're not going anywhere," Chef said firmly as Owen and Bridgette helped Courtney back onto her bed. "Not with that leg, you aren't. Juvie took a pool table to the gut, so he won't be any help, and bookworm and pretty boy are still out cold."
Chef turned to the five teens he hadn't picked for his team and who weren't seriously injured; Lindsay, Heather, Alejandro, LeShawna, and Owen. "I'm counting on you guys to look after the wounded while my team and I get help. Can you guys do that?"
"You can count on me, Chef," LeShawna said, saluting the larger man with her good arm.
"Me too!" Lindsay chimed in.
Alejandro scowled, but nodded.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Heather said, crossing her arms and looking away. "Just as long as you get us out of this mess."
"We won't let you down, Chef," Owen said, right before shoveling some beef jerky into his mouth. He noticed the others giving him strange looks. "What? Near-death experiences make me hungry!"
Chef rolled his eyes, then turned his his team. All of them had finished packing, their backpacks slung over their shoulders. "My team, wait for me outside. I'll be out in a minute."
Chef's team nodded and then left, Izzy and Tyler giving Owen and Lindsay a kiss goodbye (Harold tried to kiss LeShawna, but was pushed away). Before Chef left, he handed Alejandro a small, orange gun.
"What's this?" The handsome teen asked, staring down at the firearm.
"Flare gun," Chef replied as he turned to leave. "If someone finds you guys, or if there's any trouble, stand outside and fire it into the air."
Before Chef left, he gave the staying teens a salute. "Good luck, soldiers."
And with that, Chef stepped outside, slamming the door behind him.
"Alright, soldiers," Chef said to his team as he started walking in the direction of the village. "We've got a lot of walking to do, so let's get moving."
The teenagers nodded and started following Chef through the woods. Harold, who was closest to the burly cook, noticed him fiddling with an odd-shaped device.
"What's that?" Harold asked.
Chef held up the device for all to see. It was a small, black 9 millimeter handgun. Several of the teens gasped and shrunk back in fear.
"Handgun," Chef explained. "I got it from the bus's emergency kit."
He looked over his shoulder and noticed the looks of fear on the teen's faces, and quickly put the gun in his pocket. "Relax, it's just a precaution, in case we run into any hostile animals. I probably won't even have to use it."
Later, Chef would realize just how false that statement was.
A dark figure sat alone in a small, windowless room. The only light came from the small candles mounted on the walls. A second dark figure entered thew room and bowed before the sitting figure.
"Forgive me for disturbing you, my lord," the kneeling figure said. "But we have... visitors."
"Is that so?" The sitting figure asked, crossing his arms.
"Yes sir. In the mountains to the north of us. What shall we do?"
The sitting figure rubbed his chin for a few minutes, deep in thought. Finally, he spoke again.
"Send them... a welcoming committee."
End of Prologue...
Review, please! Constructive criticism is encouraged, destructive criticism will be ignored completely. Later!