A drabble-fic series based on my new favorite Disney show, DuckTales (2017)!

Tales of Ducklings

Front and Rear

"Here it is! The Entrance to the Haunted Rodeo Stadium of Torero!" Webby quacked out to the boys.

"Sweet!" Dewey grinned, high-fiving his best friend as they stepped past cobwebs in the alleyway to enter the premise. Huey glanced around nervously.

"Eh, I would feel much safer if Uncle Donald or Great-Uncle Scrooge were with us," the oldest duckling muttered, "I'm starting to think we shouldn't have snuck out of the hotel."

"Yeah, I should have slept this one out," Louie yawned as he lagged behind the other three.

"Do you really think we'll face down the ghost of Torero?" Dewey whispered in glee to Webby, who replied, "Well, every midnight on Mardi Gras, the ghost of the mighty bull Torero roams these very grounds, seeking revenge on the rookie bull that defeated him in bloody, brutal combat!"

Louie and Huey cringed at the mention of "bloody, brutal combat". Dewey was enthralled, however, with stars in his eyes.

"So that's a yes!" Webby finished.

"So from what I've heard from the local tourist center is that we have to stomp on the ground around the inner fences of the ranch, to summon the vengeful spirit of Torero," Dewey recalled, then he pointed over at a dilapidated sign, "Found it! Come on, let's go spectral wrangling!"

Huey decided that now was the time to hammer down some precautions.

"Louie, Webby, you go on ahead! I've found something that I'd like to quickly inspect with Dewey," he said.

"Okay," Webby responded, pulling on Louie's arm, "Come on, Louie!"

Louie was too lethargic to protest.

Huey, meanwhile, pulled Dewey off to the side behind an abandoned taco stand.

"Okay, what is going on?" Dewey demanded, not believing his brother's claims for a second.

"I'm gonna lead the way around the bullpen," Huey stated firmly, "And I am not gonna be disputed on that. Second, you are gonna bring up the rear, since you don't mind chasing danger – which I might add, might sneak up behind us this time. And third, please be aware of our surroundings. No really, be extra aware. This place gives me the creeps, and it's not just the promise of finding ghosts, which is like 60% of what we do with our uncles…"

"Okay, okay," Dewey sighed, "I'd call you paranoid, normally, but I have every intention of letting no harm come to Louie and Webby."

"Good," Huey breathed, "Let's go then."

The two oldest ducklings started making their way back to the other half of their small group. Huey couldn't help but prod at an interesting subject.

"So… you've been spending a lot of time around Webby lately," Huey stated, pretending to sound curiously observant, "Anything interesting going on?"

"Besides our shared thirst for adventure? Yeah! I mean I do like ordering her favorite meal of burger, fries and a milkshake when we go out for takeaway nights, and of course we like binge-watching blockbusters…"

"No, I meant something more… more… coy."

"Coy…?" Dewey pondered, "As in – NO WAY! I'm 10, and she's 9, and – HOW COULD YOU THINK THAT?!"

"Well, when did she tell you her age?" Huey smirked.

"Dude, I just asked her!"

"And you didn't tell me and Louie?"

"Well there's no law about confiding everything with your siblings!" Dewey burst out.

"I'm just saying…" Huey continued, but was cut off by his youngest brother yelling to them.

"Well if you two chickens are finished hanging back, I'd like to get this over with so I can head back to bed!" Louie grumbled, shaking a fist at them.

"Coming!" Dewey called back, hurrying to the others.

"Remember Dewey! You're bringing up the rear when we actually do this suicidal stunt!" Huey reminded his middle brother as he sprinted to catch up.

"Yeah, yeah, Mr Junior Woodchuck."

"Let me turn my flashlight onto full beam," Huey told Webby as he took up the front, "And then you hold it while I consult the map for possible exits in case this goes wrong – and it probably will – so that we have escape options."

"Can you two multitask while we waddle around waiting for certain death?!" Louie huffed irritably, "I can't believe that your indecisiveness is making me practical! I'm supposed to be the laidback, easy-going guy here!"

"You mean the lazybones, fat-face?" Dewey teased his chubby little brother.

"Whatever," Louie groaned, "I'm sick of telling you guys it's the hoodie that makes me look like a stuffed goose."

When the ducklings had finished marching a complete circuit around the bullpen, they stopped by the gate and waited. And waited. And waited.

"Gah! This was futile! Stupid! Pointless! And futile!" Louie shouted at last, before hopping over the gate, "I'm going back to bed!"

Huey noticed Dewey and Webby looking a bit downcast, though.

"Cheer up, you two," he said to them, "I'm pretty sure there are other supernatural tourist attractions for you to seek adrenaline rushes from."

"Louie has a point though," Webby sighed, "This idea turned out to be dumb."

"And we'll have to contend with sleepiness in the morning," Dewey added, "I just wish that–"

Heavy, snorting echoes cut him off.

Up ahead, Louie shrieked and ran back to them. Huey did his best to hide his own trembling and stepped up.

"Okay," he said to the other kids, "Follow me. I'll find us the quickest way out of here. Webby, you're the torchbearer. Dewey, bring up the rear."

Dewey gave his big brother a brave, determined smile and nodded.

Step by step, the kids snuck closer to the nearest exit. The soil squished softly under their webbed feet.

"We're almost there!" Huey whispered. A cracking sound beside him made him jump.

"What was that?!" Dewey squeaked from the back.

Webby shone the torch on the wall beside them. "I don't remember that crack being there," she murmured fearfully.

Louie heard sounds of heavy thuds beside him. "Oh heavens if we get out of this, I promise I'll start working for a living!"

Dewey stepped back, eyes scanning left and right, up and down. He felt his tailfeathers brush up against something… leather. As quickly as he dared, he turned around.

Glowing red eyes glared down at him, staring out from a horned skull that breathed air akin to hot steam at his face.

"T-T-Torero!" Dewey screeched, "The ghost!"

"Everybody run!" Louie hollered, and he didn't need to say anymore, for the rest of the ducklings scattered in all directions, screaming their little lungs out.

By the time they managed to escape the stadium (where thankfully the bull's ghost couldn't escape from), it was nearly dawn by the time the ducklings made it back to the hotel. They were dirty, sweaty, and rather the worse for wear.

"I don't know about you guys, but I could sleep for a week after this," Louie whimpered as he panted relentlessly.

"Same here," Webby moaned, clutching her chest where her rapidly beating heart resided.

"Huey," said the blue-clad duckling.

"Yes Dewey?"

"You're bringing up the rear next time."

This drabble is based off that scene in the intro where the kids are looking at a cracked brick wall and a bull's ghost materializes out of nowhere to chase them.