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: Same as the Prologue. This chapter will have slighty stronger language than last chapter, and a little bit of violence, but not enough to up the rating... yet.

Disclaimer: Still don't won Total Drama.

Here we go with Chapter One! Read on, if you dare...

Total Resident Evil

Part One: The Village

Chapter One: First Encounters

Chef Hatchet, Bridgette, Gwen, Cody, Sierra, Ezekiel, Izzy, Tyler, Harold, and DJ walked through the woods for what seemed like hours. The trees that surrounded the group stretched high above them, their branches and leaves blocking the light of the full moon. Beams of light from the team's flashlights cut through the darkness, but it didn't make them feel any safer. They couldn't shake the strange feeling that someone was watching them...

"Um... so..." Sierra began nervously, thinking some friendly conversation would lighten the mood. "Hey Chef, why'd you pick Alejandro, Owen, Heather, Lindsay and LeShawna to stay behind?"

"I actually gave a lot of thought into who came with me and who stayed behind," Chef replied as he pushed a large tree branch out of the way. "I figured that Lindsay and Heather would do nothing but complain the whole time. LeShawna's got that bum arm, and Owen would just slow us down, the tub of lard. Uh, no offense, Izzy."

"None taken," Izzy said with a shrug.

"As for Alejandro... Well, that guy just gives me the creeps."

The nine teenagers had to agree with Chef on that last part. Unlike Sierra, who talked with everyone when she joined their group back in Canada, Alejandro had hardly said two words to anyone. And after what happened with Justin on TDA, the teens were definitely going to be suspicious of quiet, handsome guy.

Speaking of guys, Gwen noticed that Bridgette was staring at something in her free hand. Gwen peered over the surfer girl's shoulder and saw that it was a heart-shaped locket. It was open, revealing a hidden picture of Geoff and Bridgette, their arms around each others shoulders, smiling for the camera. They both looked so... happy.

"Where'd you get that locket?" Gwen asked. Bridgette was startled for a split second, but calmed down when she saw that it was just Gwen.

"Oh, hey Gwen," Bridgette said, closing the locket. "Geoff got it for me, right after Total Drama Action ended." She put the locket around her neck and gazed down at it. "He said that it was his way of saying 'sorry' for the way he acted during the TDA Aftermath shows..."

Bridgette pause to sigh before speaking again. "You know, at first I was upset that Geoff didn't make it to Total Drama World Tour, but after everything that's happened tonight, I'm kinda glad he's safe in Canada."

"Yeah, I feel the same way about Trent not being here," Gwen said, nodding in agreement. Even thought the goth girl and musician had broken up, she still saw Trent as a good friend. The thought of getting back together even crossed her mind a couple of times, but she dismissed those ideas.

There's no way he'd take me back, Gwen decided. I'm lucky that we're still even friends. After I betrayed him like that on national TV, you'd think he-

"I see something up ahead," Ezekiel said, cutting off Gwen's train of thought. Ezekiel ran ahead of Chef and pushed his way past some tall bushes. The eight teens and burly cook were quick to follow.

The motley crew found themselves staring at a small, brick cabin with a wooden roof. They could see light pouring out of the open window, and smoke rose up from the thin chimney.

"Looks like someone's home," DJ said. "Maybe they can help us?"

"There's only one way to find out," Chef remarked, stepping forward. He light knocked on the wooden door. "Hello? Is anyone home?"

There was no answer. Chef knocked again, this time a little harder. The door swung open, creaking loudly. Chef paused for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Finally, he stepped inside the house. The nine teenagers followed.

The house was small, with only a single room. In front of Chef and the teenagers was a small table, with a single clay bowl in the center, surrounded by dirty utensils. Next to the table was a filthy bed. In front of table, directly across from the group, was a fireplace, an iron pot hanging over it. In front of said fireplace was a bald man, wearing a plain gray work shirt, brown trousers, and brown boots. The teens watched as he fed a log to the fire – no doubt he was in the middle of fixing his dinner.

"Um, excuse me," Chef called out. "Sir?"

The bald man turned around in shock, giving the teens a full view of his face. He had a thin, black beard, his skin was abnormally pale, and his eyes... his irises were fire-engine red. When he saw the group of strange people in his doorway, those red eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger.

"Kto yebat' ty? Chto vy delaete v moem dome?!" the man demanded in Russian. "Poluchit' yebut iz!" (Translation: Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my house?! Get the fuck out!)

Chef was confused; he didn't understand Russian at all. Nevertheless, he had to try and communicate with this man; lives were on the line.

"I'm sorry to bust in on you like this," Chef began. "But we need help. Our RV crashed, and-"

"Ya ne ponimayu vas, vy glupye chertov amerikanets! Ty ne mozhesh' skazat', chto ya tol'ko govorit' na russkom?" (I can't understand you, you stupid fucking American! Can't you tell that I only speak Russian?)

"Don't yell at me! Look, if you'll just-"

"Slezaĭ s moego imushchestva!" (Get off of my property!)

It was then that Zeke stepped forward, preventing what could have been a nasty fight.

"Pozhaluĭsta, prostite moĭ drug," Zeke said calmly. "On ne znakom s russkim yazykom." (Please forgive my friend, he does not know Russian.)

The look of anger on the Russian man's face was replaced by a look of surprise. Clearly, he didn't expect this young intruder to speak Russian. And neither did Zeke's friends.

"You speak Russian?" Tyler asked, as shocked as the Russian was.

"Fluently," Zeke said to Tyler with a proud smile, before turning back to the bald Russian. "My ochen' zhal' vas pobespokoili, no nam nuzhna pomoshch'. Nash avtobus razbilsya v lesu nepodaleku ot·syuda. Nashi druz'ya poluchili raneniya. Vy dolzhny nam pomoch'!" (We are terribly sorry to disturb you, but we need help. Our bus crashed in the woods not far from here. Our friends are injured. You must help us!)

The Russian's look of anger returned. "Razve ya pohozh ya dayu der'mo?" He spat. "Eto vashe poslednyee preduprezhdenie, vyĭti iz moego doma!" (Do I look like I give a shit? This is your last warning; get out of my house!)

"Pozhaluĭsta! Nashi druz'ya bol'no, vozmozhno, umiraet! Yesli vy budete prosto-" (Please! Our friends are hurt, possibly dying! If you'll just-)

"Ya skazal, ubiraĭtes'!!" (I said, get out!!)

No one was prepared for what happened next. The Russian man picked up a large carving knife from the table, shoved the table aside, and lunged for Zeke.

The girls screamed. The guys cried out. The man screamed in fury, the knife raised above his head, murder in his eyes. The only silent one was Zeke; he was paralyzed with fear, frozen to the spot.

"ZEKE!!"

Had it not been for Izzy's intervention, Zeke probably would have been killed on the spot. The redhead's fist came out of nowhere, slamming into the face of the Russian, sending him and the knife flying across the room. Before Zeke could react, a pair of hands spun him around, and he was face-to-face with a concerned Izzy.

"Are you alright?" she asked with worry in her eyes.

Before Zeke could utter a word of thanks, Chef shoved both he and Izzy against the wall.

"He's recovering!" Ezekiel heard Chef shout. "Get behind me!"

Startled, Zeke turned and saw that the Russian man had indeed recovered, and was coming towards them again, the knife in hand. Blood sprayed out of his broken nose, but the man didn't seem to notice.

Speaking of noticing, Zeke also saw that Chef had positioned himself between the man and the kids. He had also drawn his gun, and was pointing it at the enraged Russian.

"Freeze!" Chef shouted, glaring at the bald man.

He continued to walk towards them, the knife raised. Chef cocked his gun and shouted a warning again. "I said freeze!"

Still the man's step didn't falter. He seemed completely unfazed by the fact that there was a gun pointed at him. Chef growled...

"Alright, you asked for it!"

...and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot sounded like a dozen firecrackers, all going off at once. The gun jumped in Chef's hand. Behind him, Sierra, Bridgette, and DJ all cried out, and everyone else gasped. A bullet hole appeared in the Russian attacker's chest, right above his heart. The man stumbled stopped and stumbled, but amazingly, didn't fall. He looked down at the now bleeding bullet wound, back up at Chef... and kept walking.

"What the hell?" Chef asked aloud, his eyes widening in shock and fear. Chef fired two more rounds, each one hitting the man in the chest. Again he stumbled, but did not fall. He just kept coming.

Finally, Chef had had enough. He aimed the gun slightly higher, and squeezed off one more round. This bullet went right between the Russian's eyes. The man stopped, and didn't start walking again. The knife clattered to the floor. The man dropped to his knees, let out a final, weak groan, and collapsed on the floor in front of Chef.

For a few minutes, no one did anything. Everyone just stared at the body in shock, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

It was DJ who finally broke the silence.

"Is-is he d-dead?" The brick house whimpered.

Chef lowered his gun and gave the man a kick in the side. When he didn't stir, Chef put his gun away. "Yeah, he's dead."

All nine teens let out a collective sigh of relief. But their minds were still troubled by what happened. It was Harold who finally said what everyone was thinking.

"How did this guy take a sucker-punch to the face and three shots to the chest and not die?"

Before anyone could even begin to answer that, an explosion rocked the cabin. It was like several barrels of TNT, all going off at the same time. The teens screamed. Chef screamed. The earth beneath their feet seemed to vibrate.

Then, almost as quickly as it began, it was over. Everything was calm again, save for the frantic breathing of ten freaked-out Canadians.

"What the hell was that?!" Tyler gasped, his hand over his rapidly-beating heart.

Ezekiel looked out the house's window, and gasped.

"Look!" he said, pointing out the window. Everyone turned to look, and they too gasped.

Smoke was rising up out of the forest in the distance. Near where the smoke was rising, the trees had a faint orange glow about them.

Ten sets of eyes went wide with fear, and ten hearts skipped a couple of beats. Without a word between them, the group flew out of the house and started running through the forest. Towards the sound of the explosion. Towards the fire and the smoke.

Towards the spot where the Total Drama World Tour RV had crashed.

End of Chapter One...

In case you haven't figured it out yet, the enemies in this story will be similar to the Majini and Los Ganados of Resident Evils 5 and 4 (respectively), rather than the zombies of Resident Evils 1 through 3. Anyways, please review! Oh, and just a little warning; next chapter, someone will die... Mwahahaha!