TOTAL DRAMA:
AND THEN THERE WERE NONE
Chapter 1: A Very Pleasant Afternoon
In a small train station in the middle of nowhere, a young girl with green hair awaits holding her small suitcase with both hands. She is pale and looks a bit ghostly, and she is wearing a leather jacket, a pair of jeans and a pair of fancy boots. She is wearing sunglasses, to, probably so she can cover the bags under her eyes. She looks at the clock on top of the platform, which says it is 11.54. At 12.00 the next train to Devon Harbor should be leaving, and she is expecting to be on it, chilling while observing the landscapes of Canada. A girl with glasses, braces and a greasy ponytail appears on the platform, carrying with difficulty a heavy, pink suitcase. The green-haired girl looks at hair with a bit of disdain, but smirks to herself.
"Hey!" the girl says, gasping for air. "Is this the platform to Devon Harbor?"
"Yup," confirms the green-haired girl, not interested in engaging in a full conversation with that sweaty girl.
"Oh. My. Gosh. I thought I wasn't going to be on time and then I wouldn't be on time to... Oh! Sorry, I haven't even introduced myself," she says, with a embarrassed smile. "My name is Elisabeth Williams. But... You can call me Beth. That's what everybody calls me, anyway."
She laughs weakly, covering her mouth with her right hand. The green-haired girl rolls her eyes and sits down on one of the station's benches. The girl is relentless and gets close to her once again.
"Are you going to Devon Harbor, too? What's your name?" Beth asks.
"My name is Gwen. Gwen Andrews, and wherever I'm going is none of your business..." she says, in a bored tone.
"That's not nice," Beth replies, a bit annoyed. "But I'm used to people not being that nice to me. I'm a writer, y'know? I have looots of haters..."
"I'm sure you do," Gwen says, trying to refrain herself from smiling. "What kind of books do you write, anyway?"
"Murder books!", Beth seems very excited about that topic. She sits down right next to Gwen, with a dreamy smile on her face. "I've published 3 so far. Have you read them?"
"Yeah... I'm not really into that 'reading' stuff," Gwen lies blatantly, carrying two books she expects to read during her trip in her suitcase. "What are they called?"
"The Sixth Murder. It's a trilogy. Y'know, they are like the same story but in different books?"
"Yes, I know what a trilogy is, thanks."
Beth opens her heavy suitcase and takes a book with a black cover and golden letters from it.
"This is the first part."
"Cool," Gwen replies, snarkily. "You probably have lots of readers..."
"Actually, yes! I think that's why Chris McLean has invited me to the party..."
Gwen blinks twice, surprised. Beth looks at her, enjoying the moment, deeply aware that Gwen wasn't expecting her to utter those words.
"The famous Chris McLean has invited you to a party? Wow."
"I know, I was surprised too. But, y'know? It's like, I'm kinda well-known! So I guess I'm more of a celebrity than I give myself credit for... Or that's what I'd like to think, anyway."
The train approaches the station making a blazing noise. Not as grating as Beth's voice, though, Gwen thinks with a smile on her face. Gwen takes her suitcase once again, and Beth gets up after her.
"I'm actually going to Devon Harbor too," Gwen finally admits while getting on the train, blushing slightly and finally showing some color on her pale face. "I've been invited to that same party, too."
"You're joking!" Beth looks extremely surprised. "Are you really?"
"Yes. I'm the bartender."
An elegantly dressed woman is getting inside a car, carefully making sure her long dress doesn't get wrinkly because of the friction and movement. A guy with long hair and a goatee is already sitting on one of the seats, reading the newspaper.
"You must be Ms. Yoshida, right?" the man says, with an unpleasant smirk on his face.
"Yup. Call me Heather, please," the woman says, while taking off her sunglasses and putting them on her lap. "You're the helper my dad hired for this trip?"
"That is correct. My name is Alejandro Burromuerto. Por favor, lend me your hand."
She obeys and immediately after Alejandro grabs her hand to kiss it gently. She looks a bit disgusted.
"Please. Don't do that again."
"Oh, my. Have I troubled you, Ms. Yoshida? That was a gesture of pure respect."
"Yeah, yeah, but try to avoid touching me, okay? And please, call me Heather."
Heather expected Alejandro to take that as an offense, but he continues to smirk while looking straight at her. After a few seconds, he signals to the driver.
"Venga, vamos. Es hora ya."
"Could you speak in English, please? It's just a bit annoying," Heather scoffs, while grabbing Alejandro's newspaper without asking first.
"May I ask what is annoying, Ms. Heather?" he asks, politely.
"You, talking in Spanish. I studied Spanish, okay? But I never really bothered learning it. It's pointless. Like your position as my assistant."
"That is a shame, miss. In any case, we are going to be a long time together in this trip, as I am expected to look after you amid all those strangers at the party. So, you should better get used to my speaking in Spanish."
"Excuse me?" Heather looks offended at Alejandro's audacity.
He grabs the newspaper back from her hands and starts reading it. Heather glares at him, more annoyed than she is ever felt in her life.
Inside of a busy train, a dark-skinned girl with a long ponytail is listening to a walkman while doing her nails. The old man sitting next to her seems quite annoyed because of the loud music that can be heard even from afar. The girl doesn't seem bothered at all and is listening to it at full blast. The old man gets up and touches her on the shoulder. She glares at him, removing one of the headphones from her ears.
"Must be important if you're here bothering me, huh?" she says, annoyed.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but could you maybe listen to your music without bothering the whole train?" he asks, a bit aggressively.
"Actually, no, I can't. I enjoy my music better like this. So, yeah, tough luck. Anything else?"
"What a rude young woman!" the man mutters under his breath. He picks up his things and leaves the train car.
A guy sitting next to them, with glasses and greasy hair, observes the situation and smiles. He moves closer to the girl, with a shy smile on his face. She glares at him after noticing, raising an eyebrow with certain annoyance.
"You too? Hey, I listen to music however I want to, 'kay?" she tells him before he can say anything.
"Of course!" he agrees. "I was just admiring your determination and how well you handled that old man. It's so impressive!"
"I guess?"
"My name's Harold" the geeky guy says, raising his hand towards her. She looks at it with a raised eyebrow and decides to not touch him.
"Leshawna" she says.
"I'm going to Wawanakwa Island to meet an old friend of mine, but it'd be nice to make some small talk with you on the way there... If you don't mind, of course..."
"You're joking!" she says, with a big smile. She reaches into her suitcase and pulls out a letter with a stamp that looks familiar to Harold. "I'm going to Wawanakwa too! I was invited by McLean. Y'know, 'cause I'm such a famous singer and stuff..."
"You're going there, too?" he asks, impressed. "So we're gonna share a house for the weekend. Interesting."
"Don't get weird ideas, skinny boy! I have no interest in no men. I'm just going to have some fun and relax a bit. My career is quite stressful, y'know?"
"Yes, yes. What I meant was that we could be good acquaintances. That's all. Sorry if you thought I had gotten the wrong idea."
"Don't get all bothered, it's okay. I'm a famous, so..."
"I've heard from McLean that we're gonna meet with some interesting people. A writer, a lawyer, a woman from the Canadian elite, a chef..."
"I don't care. I'll probably be the most famous person on the island, so..." Leshawna says, arrogantly.
"I see. Well, I'm quite the famous person myself, but..." Harold says, but Leshawna has stopped listening and is back to her music.
A freckled-filled girl is sitting in an outdoor bar in the small village of Devon Harbour, while drinking a very cold soda filled to the brim with ice. She has a very elegant hairdo and reads a book while playing with the straw in her drink. After a while, she decides to take an envelope that she keeps after the last page of the book she's reading and opens it to reveal a letter inside. She unfolds the letter and starts reading it again.
Dear Ms. Vásquez,
You have been invited to a lovely weekend in Wawanakwa Island, a small resort on the Canadian coast. You will be able to enjoy the beautiful weather, the exclusive attention of our friendly staff and the company of the most distinguished guests. You have been chosen for your sweet personality, your great achievements in the world of law and your determination in the Waters family case. I hope you accept my humble offer. If you do, please be at Devon Harbor on the 21st of May at 15.00.
Yours truly,
Chris McLean
The girl decides to put the letter back inside the envelope, contemplating the wonderful opportunity that was presented to her. A weekend in an exclusive resort for high-end celebrities? She could think of no better way to spend those two days. She would drink a few cocktails, make herself known among the Canadian elite, and perhaps even meet some interesting men. What an interesting opportunity indeed.
Beth has decided to sit next to Gwen, who seems a bit bothered by the choice of the writer. She is talking about some topic that is of no interest to Gwen.
"So yeah, then when my braces were removed I had to wear like some kind of wires on my jaw to realign... Huh? Are you listening, Gwen?"
Gwen looks at her, so bored that she could drop dead in that instant. Beth smiles.
"I can also talk about all the surgical procedures I've undergone, if you want. See, when I was born my spleen..."
"So Beth, why do you think Chris McLean has invited us to a party?" Gwen asks, a bit hurriedly, as she is not interested at all on Beth's surgical procedures nor her spleen's history.
"Huh, good question. I guess he wanted to have some important people on his island... I read on the newspaper just a couple weeks ago that he bought it out of boredom. The island, I mean. It used to be owned by some rich lady who built a huuuuge mansion there, with swimming pool and all that stuff. I reckon he just wants to have a good time with us."
"Yeah... But why us? It's a bit weird. I'm just a bartender from Ontario. Okay, I also play in the Macbeth Heirs, a goth band back in my town, but we're so small I don't think we even appear on the Internet."
"Ooooh, the Internet, that seems like fun stuff."
"Aren't you a writer? You don't use the Internet in order to research your murder shit?"
"Please," Beth seems a bit agitated. "Don't use those words, okay? I... I don't like that kind of vocabulary."
"Huh. Sorry, ma'am," Gwen says, rolling her eyes. "Anyway... I'm gonna go get some water on the dining car. You want anything?"
"No! I have my raisins here in my bag, tee-hee."
"Ew..."
Gwen gets up and starts walking down the corridor towards the dining car, but after just a few steps she collides with a guy that's standing on the door frame.
"Oops! Ouch," Gwen says, taking a couple steps back.
"Hey, sorry," the guy says, looking at her.
The guy is tall, with blue eyes and a green mohawk. He looks like a troublemaker, wearing a punk T-shirt, ripped jeans and sunglasses that covered what looked like eyebrow piercings.
"Don't worry, I was just on my own world..." Gwen says, still thinking about the numberless potential possibilities regarding Beth's spleen. "I was going to the dining car and..."
"Heh, seems like a long way from here. Need company?"
Gwen looks at him, a bit taken aback. After a couple seconds, she draws a smug smile on her face.
"Nah, thanks. I think I can get there alone."
"Whatever, then," the guy says with a confident tone on his voice.
Gwen squeezes through the gap the man leaves between the door and the wall, without him moving an inch. She looks back after a couple steps, but the guy is still there, doing his own thing.
"What a weirdo," she mutters to herself, a bit scared to admit that she actually enjoyed a bit the conversation.
In a small harbor surrounded by green vegetation on the sunny Canadian coast, a pink limousine parks next to the dock entrance. The pleasant noise of the waves greets a blonde woman with a stunning body, with long, long, endless legs. She wears an elegant green silk dress and expensive brand sunglasses. She smiles to the driver, who gets out of the car and runs to the trunk to get the many suitcases the young woman is carrying. She smiles even more.
"Yay, thanks! That's lovely of you. Could you maybe find Mr. Chip McLong?"
"Sorry, miss. Who?" the driver asks, totally clueless.
"Mmm, maybe that was not his name... I can't remember, though. Buuut, nevermind, it's fine. I'm going to Wawanakwa Island!"
"You remember Wawanakwa Island but you can't remember the name 'Chris McLean'?" a guy standing next to the dock entrance asks, astonished.
"Uh, hey! Are you Chirp McLing?" she asks, with a sweet smile.
"Nah. I am the one who drives the boat to Wawanakwa Island. Name's Scott."
"Scott! I won't forget that name!"
"Sure you won't, ma'am."
"My name is Lindsay. I'm going to Wawanakwa Island for the weekend and I'm like totally excited. Have the other guests arrived yet?"
"Well, as you can tell by the complete absence of any other people on the dock, no they haven't ma'am."
"Eeep! I'm excited. I'm looking forward to meet my friends for the weekend. Do you know who else is coming?"
Scott shakes his head, a bit annoyed by all the questioning.
"No, ma'am. My orders are to drive the boat to Wawanakwa Island."
"I see. Cool. Like, it's not like I'm nervous, tee-hee. So you know Christy McLerp?"
"Who, Chris McLean? No, ma'am. I just know he is the new owner of the island..."
"Ah, I see. Okay, nice! So maybe you could start by getting my suitcases on the boat? I have more in the trunk."
Scott looks at the huge number of suitcases she's carrying.
"You have a boat just for suitcases, right?" Lindsay asks, naively.
"Ah, I can't wait for the trip to start..." Scott says under his breath, while going to get Lindsay's suitcases.
The rays of the sun bathe the cliffs of an island upon which a huge, modern-looking mansion stands. The island is full of trees and a path that runs through them, leading to some stone stairs that reach the wooden dock where the boats arrive with the supplies and, when there are parties of this sort, with the guests. A man in a butler's suit, with long hair and a smug face, is cleaning one of the huge windows. A woman approaches him carrying a basket full of clothes.
"The guests will be arriving soon, right, Noah?" she asks, with a very nice voice.
"Yes. You know that."
"I'm finishing preparing the upstairs rooms. Any news from Mr. McLean?"
"Nope."
"You could be a teeny bit more talkative, couldn't you?"
Noah sighs, exasperated. The woman winks at him playfully.
"Only you can get on my nerves like that, Sierra. I'm impressed."
"Be patient! We're gonna be here for the fuuuull weekend with some rich and uptight people. So, yeah, like..."
"Anyway... As per Mr. McLean's instructions..."
"Yes, yes, I knoooow."
Sierra grabs what seems to be a bloody knife that's inside the clothes basket, with a twisted smile in her face.
"We're gonna have so much fun. Tee-hee-hee-heeeeee!"
Noah looks at her like he's seeing some kind of monster.
"You're enjoying this too much."
A fat blonde man is reading a letter sitting on a train. He seems to be enjoying it, until he gets to the end of the letter. He looks at it again, a bit scared, a bit curious. He reads the last few words under his breath, with an intense voice. It's scary, he thinks, and decides to read it again, not knowing the full meaning of the words he has in front of him.
"And when the first day came again,
no noise could be heard,
no heart left to beat,
no voice left to speak.
It was the end of the game."
AUTHOR'S NOTES!
Hello!
My name is Vychissoise. I'm a Spanish Total Drama fanfic writer and this is my first attempt to write a story in English, so please excuse any weird choice of words and wonky description. I know I'll improve as I get into the English-writing mindset, but the first few chapters are gonna be a bit wonky and I accept it fully.
I hope you enjoy this story. It's a small homage to "And Then There Were None", by Agatha Christie, with a Total Drama cast. It's going to get a bit crude, but it's never going to be too explicit. It can get intense, but it shouldn't get to the point where it's gory. I hope you enjoy it, though. The story has the same premise as Christie's, but it's going to be quite different, so I encourage you to read it even if you have already read the original. It will be interesting :)
That's all I wanted to share for now, but if you have any comment or question please leave a review! I'd love to read your opinions and answer any possible question you might have :)
See you!