This my first Mighty Ducks trilogy one-shot. (If you remember the movies from the 90s, you know what I'm referring to.) You can put this in the D3 universe, but only about when they're juniors...16 or so. This is an AU story, meaning I'm using a different decade, there is no mention of Linda and there is slash. They are still hockey players that go to Eden Hall Academy. Also, you'll notice that two enemies from D1 are in here: McGill and Larson...it is to my understanding that their first names were never mentioned in the film, so I'm making them up. It was kinda early in the morning when this idea came to me and there are very few creature fics centered around this fandom so I thought I'd contribute. Hope it's tolerable! :)

Author's Note and Disclaimer: I do not own the Mighty Ducks, only this plot. Any mistakes are my own! And any mention of a real-world establishment is not my property either!

October 18, 2014. Two weeks before Halloween...the mall.

"Man, I am so fucking bored. Can we go to the ice cream shop already? Wanna meet some girls." Portman groaned, trudging alongside Julie as they trailed behind the others in their group on a weekend trek through the mall.

Julie replied "No, Dean...we're heading to the food court."

"Can I at least go to the lingerie store?"

"Why the hell would you want to go to Victoria's Secret?"

Guy snorted "Girls are bound to be there. What would be a better place?"

Connie smacked him on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Don't encourage him. You're liable to get him kicked out of the mall."

"It's not like he can't do that well enough on his own.."

"Still, don't. And why would you even approve of that, anyway?"

"Uhhh..."

Julie rolled her eyes. "Why ask? He's a boy and that's explanation enough."

"Aw please, let the guy have a little fun. We never get to with all the damn teachers meddling back on campus." Fulton added in full support of his bash brother, who thanked him for trying to get the others to see his skewed point of view.

Charlie and Adam chuckled to themselves as they bantered back and forth, noticing Guy was just digging himself into a deeper hole with Connie.

"He's never going to learn, is he?"

Charlie shook his head. "Nope. It's nearly impossible to win an argument with women."

Adam smirked. "Good thing we're not into them, huh?" he brushed his fingers against Charlie's, who then reciprocated the act.

"You can say that again."

"If ya'll ask me, he should have just kept his mouth shut. That, or come up with a better evasive answer." Dwayne commented casually, hands deep within his form-fitting blue jean pockets. They had to agree, their cowboy did have a point. One wrong answer to a direct question and you're in a trap.

"Good thinking, Dwayne. At least one of you has common sense." Connie cut her eyes back to a sheepish and slightly shamefaced Guy Germaine.

"Finally, there's the food court. I'm starved!" Charlie enthusiastically pointed out, leading the way towards the numerous delicious aromas floating around the busy area, bringing an abrupt halt to the previous conversation.

Grabbing their orders, the gang took their seats at a couple tables they pushed together. Charlie and Adam at the far right, followed by Connie and Guy, Julie, Dean and Fulton, then Dwayne at Charlie's left. They all ate peacefully in between chatting over how they'll spend the rest of their weekend and betting whether or not Goldberg would puke or pass out from Orion's next set of suicide drills during practice. Looking up from his burger and fries absentmindedly, Adam frowned at the green eyes fixed upon him as their owner approached, accompanied by five other boys that he knew all too well. Grant McGill, Blair Larson, Fanger, Morgan and two more he didn't care to name off.

"Oh shit."

Charlie looked at him. "What's up?" Blue eyes narrowed immediately.

"Well, if it isn't Spazway and his band of rejects. Pleasure seeing you this fine Saturday afternoon. Shouldn't you be flying off to your little pond somewhere?" McGill snidely remarked, sneering down at his former District Five enemy and Hawks team-mate.

"Just go away, McGill." Adam bit out, turning icy blue-jade orbs away, hoping that alone would get him to disappear for once. Unfortunately, he's known him since childhood and that has never worked.

Charlie glared "You heard Adam, now go bother someone else."

McGill scoffed. "I can come and go as I please and maybe I want to sit near your table. In fact, I think I will...just to annoy you and your precious boyfriend. That's right..I know all about that. I had a feeling you two were fags. Could smell it a mile away."

Larson sighed softly and shifted uncomfortably at his friend using that derogatory term. That did it for Charlie. He had no idea how McGill found out but that did not stop him from shooting straight out of his seat and marching over towards him. Fulton and Dean did not hesitate to rise and follow, flanking both sides of their captain, fists balled.

"Say that again, I dare you. I promise you, I won't have a problem tossing your sorry ass into the trash." Fulton snarled, glowering at McGill through black bangs. Guy stayed with Connie and Julie, making sure none of McGill's followers decided to approach them. Adam remained behind Charlie, praying this would all be over quickly because people were staring. Dwayne just sat silently at his end, observing each and every participant from end to end...waiting to see who'd make the next move.

Grant met Fulton's glare, opening his mouth to retort. Larson nudged him, suggesting in the nick of time before things got bad. "Let's just go, dude. We're causing enough of a scene as it is." Adam was very thankful that Larson was always the more level-headed Hawk.

McGill huffed, then replaced his frown with an infuriating smirk. "You're right. I don't need to waste my time with the likes of these people." The contemptuous teen's forest-toned eyes floated across the small group before him, from the three fuming males in front to Germaine and the girls, finally resting upon the black-haired cowboy. Out of nowhere, an odd feeling settled along the pit of McGill's stomach. The look the Texan was giving him...it was impassive, almost calculating. Slightly unnerving. He hadn't moved the entire time. 'Fucking weird. What's up with that Duck? Whatever...who cares?' Straightening his own preparatory school letterman jacket, McGill sauntered off with his posse.

All took a collective sigh of relief. "Thought they'd never leave.." Julie murmured.

"Just be glad you've never had to deal with him." Adam replied, watching McGill disappear down the bustling hall.

"How could you for so long?" queried Guy as he resumed eating his fries.

Adam shrugged. "I guess it came with the territory. We were friends, remember? And frankly, Blair is the one you should be asking that question."

Connie sighed, resting her head upon her hand. "I don't see how he does it. He must have the patience of a saint."

"Probably."

Dean scrunched his face. "His name is Blair?"

Adam nodded slowly. "Yeeaah and McGill's first name is Grant."

"Grant? Really?"

"Dude, assholes do have names, you know." Portman punched Fulton in the arm. Dwayne snickered.

Charlie took a sip of his drink. "You couldn't expect to know, man. The rest of the newer Ducks don't. Adam's always mentioned them by their surnames."

Guy raised his eyebrows nonchalantly. "Can we forget about them? Food's getting cold and I would like to finish up my homework sometime today."

"Sure thing.."

That following Monday...

Walking down the hall of the boys' dorm building, Charlie listened as the chatter ensued in the occupied strip. The few hanging outside their doorways were excited over something. What that was, he had no clue. Turning the knob on his and Adam's dormroom, he heard his name being called, more like shouted by a short and husky goalie.

"Hey Conway! Guess what? We've been invited!" Goldberg announced as he hustled over, waving a white envelope.

"Invited to what?"

"Hello! A party! One of the rich guys from the football team is throwing it...I think it's the quarterback. Anyway, I got one, Averman got one...all the Ducks got one. Look under your door. That's where I found mine."

He did and stooped down to pick up two; one addressed to himself and one to Adam. He tore the eggshell white paper and read the black words printed upon the festive orange cardstock. "A Halloween party, huh? Next Friday night...at Rosewood Manor...not too far from Eden Hall. Isn't that place abandoned?"

"Yeah but what would make a better setting for the 'scariest night of the year'? The gym? No thanks. I like my shindigs without the fat P.E. teacher breathing down my neck."

Charlie grinned. "Don't we all?"

"So, when you shopping for a costume?"

"I dunno..."

"Well, you could always accompany me, Portman an' the other guys while Connie an' Julie search for theirs."

"Jesus!" Goldberg clutched his chest and swiveled around, eyes bugging up and out at Dwayne. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"This way." he gestured behind him.

"Well, I know what you should go as. A fucking cat. I swear, someone should put a bell on you or something 'cause I can't hear you coming or going. I'm gonna go now before I die in the damn hall...almost giving me a heart attack..." Goldberg grumbled and complained, heading back to his dorm.

Charlie laughed. "You know, that wouldn't be a bad idea. Then again... " he tilted his head. "..you'd look kinda weird in cat ears."

"Worse in a tail. So, any idea what you're wantin' to be?"

Charlie licked his lips thoughtfully, setting his shoulderbag upon his bed. "Uh, no idea. Maybe I'll take the classic route and be a vampire or something..."

Dwayne fumbled with his hat. "Well, you've got until this weekend. That's when we're all goin' out."

Charlie grabbed his gear. "I think I'll have an idea by then. Practice is in half an hour, so let's get moving."

Next Friday, Halloween Night.

The night of the party came around, bringing with it a chilly breeze filled with the scent of dead leaves, earth and the faint aroma of burning logs not too far in the distance. The full moon was shining brightly in the sky with hardly a dark blue cloud in sight. A group of teens masquerading as a mixture of creatures and beings of fantasy and fairytale casually sauntered down the gravel road leading to the abandoned mansion hosting the event. Loud music could be heard booming through the open door as guests made their way inside.

"This party is gonna be off the chain!" Goldberg exclaimed, all excited in his pirate getup.

Ken scoffed. " 'Off the chain'? Dude, who says that anymore?"

Russ shrugged at the uncool quotation. "No one except him."

Averman snickered at the goalie. "You suck, man."

"I suck? Please, at least my jokes are funny."

"Shut up, neither of you are funny." Leave it to Julie to set them straight. It was never a dull moment between the Ducks, what can people say?

Dressed as a commando, Dean gazed around the grand ballroom decorated with tricolored streamers, balloons, sound equipment and props to give the place a more horror-like ambiance. "Where's the food table? The punch bowl is in dire need of spiking."

"No punch, bro. Booze." Fulton pointed at the multiple buckets and beer kegs to the far right.

"I'll race you."

Everyone else split apart to mingle, leaving Charlie and Adam to stand with Guy and Connie. Adam stuck close to Charlie.

"Man, I had no idea the place would be this packed."

He had to heighten his voice due to the noise. "Me either. I don't even recognize half the people here."

Guy looked around the crowd of gyrating teens on the dance floor, focusing on one light-brunette in the left corner holding a red cup mostly likely full of liquor. "Is that Larson?"

Adam squinted in that direction. "Fuck, it is."

"Shit, that means we can assume McGill is here too." Charlie frowned. He wasn't exactly wrong with his assumption. Wherever Larson went, McGill was probably not too far away. Also, add that to the fact the other half of guests attending were from the prep school in Edina.

"Come on, guys. Just because he's here that doesn't mean we can't have a good time. Just avoid him or any other Hawk you see." Connie reasoned with her friends. She really hoped they wouldn't make asses out of themselves like they did at the mall. Again.

"Fine, babe. But if he says something off to you, I'm swinging."

"Ugh..."

Adam prayed. 'Please don't let McGill bother us...please don't let McGill bother us...keep him away..' But as fate would have it, McGill caught the uneasy look in Adam's eye. He beckoned to his friends.

''Look who showed up."

Morgan tossed his cup in the trash. "This party keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"That's for damn sure. Let's say hello." With a snap of his fingers, they treaded through the crowd to greet them.

Grant slithered coolly to the four teens, eyeing each of their costumes. He stopped at Connie, taken in by her skin-tight evil fairy ensemble. He whistled, tugging gently on one of her black and blue glittered fabric wings. "Damn. Who'd have thought you actually had a body underneath all that hockey gear. Almost decent enough to fuck.."

Connie jerked away and scowled, offended by his brash observation. "Please, like I'd fuck you anyway. You're too disgusting for me and you're probably lacking."

"Heh. Don't get ahead of yourself, honey. I said 'almost.' And you're too much of a bitch for my tastes."

"You son of a-!" Guy lunged and it took Russ, Luis and Charlie all they had to grab the blonde and hold him back.

Adam shouted at the taller teen. "How many times do we have to tell you to fuck off, McGill?! This is getting old really fast! For one night, can't you do that one simple favor? Just once? Let's go guys..." Fed up, Adam helped them push along a fuming Guy towards the other end of the room, leaving McGill to retreat in the opposite direction.

"Damn, man...you're lucky that Portman and Reed weren't right up with them. They would have laid you out flat." Fanger mused, swirling around his new drink.

"Please, two against six? I don't think the odds would have been in their favor. This isn't the ice." Morgan retorted, obviously unthreatened by the Bash Brothers.

"Think maybe you'll leave 'em along this time for good? You're getting nowhere by antagonizing them."

McGill responded in exasperation "Jesus Christ, Larson...are you getting soft on me? You've never wanted to stop before."

Blair shook his head. "No, I'm merely trying to dissuade you from getting into even more unnecessary scraps. This isn't the pee wee league anymore."

He slurred ever so slightly. "Feh, if I wanna mess with Spazway and Banks and have the promise of fucking them...ugh.. both up, then that's my business. I'll do what I want. When's the last time I've ever asked for your approval?" Gulping down the last half of his cup, Grant tossed it into the corner and shuffled off into the hall outside the ballroom, alone.

'Idiot.' Larson didn't go after him. He'll let his friend cool off for a while.

McGill sauntered further and further away from the ballroom, the music fading with each and every step out of range. He peered along the dimly-lit halls. Someone tinkered with the fusebox in the basement earlier, trying to adequately light up the building. Apparently, the person in question wasn't much of an electrician to get it flowing well. The teen gazed disinterestedly at the aged wallpaper and few trinkets strewn about then to the dusty ground.

''Stupid Conway...fucking Banks...can't stand the both of 'em. Who are they to tell me what to do?"

Mutterings such as this and the like continued for a good five or ten minutes until a noise caught his attention. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought he heard footsteps. Shrugging it off, McGill resumed his exploration of the vacant manor. Taking a turn down the faintly-lit corridor on his left, a loud 'clack' resonated through the dead silence.

'There it is again!' He wheeled around and darted his eyes. The noise was closer this time around. 'Wait, get a hold of yourself now. You're in an old house, a drafty house with probably some rats running about and bumping into shit. It happens.'

As much one would love to deny, Grant McGill actually possessed a rational mind. It wasn't uncommon for a dwelling of considerable age to have its own knocks and creaks resulting from pressure by the outside air or the presence of vermin making its way through the foundation. Aside from those observations, it didn't negate the fact it was still creepy...it was Halloween. He took a moment to peek at his watch- 10:55 pm. The party was in full swing and it would be until midnight or after. The invite wasn't too specific.

'Wonder if it's possible for me to tackle one wing. I don't particularly feel like partying anymore and I'm bored.' he pondered, idly climbing a flight of stairs.

Grant reached a three-way point once he arrived at the top. Some lights were missing, leaving these halls darker and more ominous than the previous on the floor below. He shivered out of nowhere. Goosebumps prickled across his skin, the hair stood on the back of his neck.

'God, it's fucking cold up here.' In the middle of the temperature change, another clack echoed followed by another. That's it. He realized he wasn't alone and his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

"All right, who's there?! Conway? Banks? Have you come up to scare me? Or is that you, Germaine? Don't like what I said to your girlfriend? Well, bring it on. I'm right here waiting for ya."

"Jeez, you're quite jumpy. Kinda like this skittish kitten I have back home.'' The trailing shadow stepped forth from around the corner with a smile.

Grant's forest eyes narrowed at his company. It was the Texan Duck, all dressed as something Victorian-themed...like a count at a masquerade ball or whatever. "Robertson?...the fuck are you doing?"

The cowboy shrugged, playing with the flared silky collar of his outer cape. "Just thought I'd walk around. Noise was gettin' to me."

"Uh huh, that's all fine and dandy but why did you specifically follow me to the second floor when you could have went another way? There's plenty of 'em."

"You're right. I could have but I didn't. Since we're both here...wanna hang out?"

McGill rolled his eyes and sneered. "No, you stupid cowboy. Why don't you go back to your Ducky pals and leave me alone? Got better things to do."

"Aw come on...meanderin' through a cold, dark mansion isn't a good way to pass time. We could-"

"Don't you understand the word 'no' or did getting thrown off a bull too many times make that hard for you to grasp?"

Dwayne was silent.

"Now for the last time, go away before I fucking make you."

Satisfied, Grant turned on his heels and treaded away from Dwayne. Not even a minute passes and a thick, foreboding air surrounds him. He stops and turns for a second. The cowboy disappeared. He didn't hear him leave. There was no earthly way he could have done that without making a sound. The brunette gulped. Something was not right here. Against his better judgment, he turned back around. In a split second, Dwayne was in his face, fangs bared. Those weren't there earlier, McGill noticed. He also noticed two glowing red eyes that weren't there before either.

''I think I'm fine right here."

McGill paled as his blood chilled to ice, sobering him instantly. He wasn't stupid. He was staring down an actual vampire, not a cheap imitation by some child or wannabe trying to scare their neighbor, not even those found in the movies...but a real one. He couldn't believe it. Did the Ducks even know what creature they were harboring? Did they have any conceivable idea that something of this magnitude was off with their cowboy? Evidently to McGill, they did not.

"I-I knew something was wrong with you...th-the way you looked at the mall." Grant stammered, slowly backing away.

Dwayne chuckled. That seemingly joyful sound raked across the teen's eardrums like diamonds on glass. Who'd have thought that usual happy noise could possess such a threatening tone? He mimicked Grant's pace, advancing forward.

"That's just how I normally look. No one hardly pays attention." Standing mere inches from McGill, he brought forth his hand and idly brushed fingertips along the teen's shoulder. He whispered. "About what ya'll just said to me a lil' bit ago...how are we gonna remedy that?" McGill's breath quickened, he saw how those teeth glinted in the scant light and the way Dwayne's eyes flickered back and forth from his face to his neck. The absolute last thing he wanted was to be a late-night snack. There was only one thing he could do.

"Get the fuck away from me!" And to further emphasize that demand, he landed a fist right to the vampire's left cheekbone and sped off as fast as his legs could carry him. Well, there were two things he could do.

Dwayne tapped his cheek and smirked. "Heh heh heh...I love it when they run."

'Gotta get out of here! I need...I need to get back, get help...oh god..' he skidded to a halt at the end of a hall, jerking his head around. Earlier when he'd been exploring, he wasn't truly sober...thus, ruining his chance of remembering exactly how to get back downstairs. This was one hell of a time for the classic scenario of being trapped in an empty house with a bloodthirsty creature to become reality. Goddamn it! If Grant couldn't find a way back soon, he was fucked.

"I had to have turned this way..." he mumbled, running his hand through his medium-length hair. 'More importantly...is Robertson after me?' The teen crept from his hiding spot and poked his head into the corridor. Once to the right, once to the left. Nothing was lurking about to his relief.

'Oh, thank god..' Unfortunately, somebody forgot to check above them..

Within a heartbeat, a heavy weight pinned Grant to the floor. "Gotcha!" Dwayne grinned as he wrestled the struggling boy.

"Get off me! Lemme go! Arrgh!"

A menacing smile stretched across the cowboy's face. "Go on ahead, struggle. Tire yourself out. Makes it a lot easier for me to subdue ya...o' course it makes it less fun. I always like a challenge. Last one took me three minutes. I'd like to best that record." he waited for him to relax, which he did, seeing as he could hardly move.

"There ya go. Good boy.." the vampire petted McGill's side as he turned him face up, releasing pressure from one of the teen's arms.

Noticing the opportunity, McGill swung his fist and prayed he'd make his last one count...sadly it was all in vain for Dwayne seized that fist, yanked the teen from the ground and held him up against the cold, hard wall. Grant sputtered, trying to wrench the cowboy's hand from his throat "L-Let me go...p-please.."

"Do you honestly think you're the one in charge here? Foolish. I could easily rip your throat out an' leave you to rot in the attic." Dwayne tsked, shaking his head. He looked up and down, judging his prey. So fearful, helpless. "Ya know, it's funny how you're all talk but when it comes right down to it, you're just scared. Heh...kinda makes me think you're compensatin' for somethin'. Or...tryin' to cover that somethin' up, especially with how ya tease mainly Adam an' Charlie. Am I wrong? Huh?" he lowered McGill so that they were almost eye to eye.

McGill firmly shut his mouth and looked away from the taller, muscular man's fierce gaze, his breathing still ragged. Dwayne laid strong, accurate hands upon Grant's shoulders, running them sensually down his chest and sides, circling his hips and back up again. He leaned in, allowing his breath to ghost across the other teen's lips as he spoke, further taunting Grant with the deep, sexy Texan accent that really shouldn't be sending not-so-uncomfortable shivers down his spine.

"Does it bother you? The way I'm touchin' you like this? Well, even if it does...you can't do anything about it." Dwayne tilted his head as he traced fingers across Grant's jugular, feeling the hot fresh blood course underneath. His mouth watered, his eyes brightened...he licked his fangs. He drew in closer and dragged his tongue over the lightly-tanned sensitive skin on Grant's neck. McGill shuddered from the touch. He didn't know whether it was coming from the sheer inexplicable terror of not knowing if he'd make it home alive or a sick pleasure that's begging to break the surface. Right now wasn't the best time for debate.

"Why...w-why me? The others are just as guilty as I am.." he had to know. If this was to be his supposed last night on earth, he needed to know the vampire's reasoning.

Dwayne replied calmly with that ever-present cheerful grin. "Because you're the worst outta all of 'em. An' for all the shit you've done, you need to be taught a lesson..."

The sound of a scream went unheard by the numerous teens on the ground floor as they swayed their bodies to the beat of the music, carefree and content...unaware of what transpired a mere story above them.

About thirty minutes to midnight, Grant woke and reclaimed his footing, trembling. He gazed around. Dwayne was nowhere to be seen. With a shaking hand, he gingerly touched his neck. On the right portion closer towards his collarbone were two puncture marks still leaking small droplets of blood, not enough to cause panic. He straightened the collar of his dark blue shirt and dress coat, buttoning them to hide his wound. Utterly thankful he was alive, he was never going to speak of what happened tonight as long as he lived...if there was a chance he'd live the next time he came across Dwayne. Meandering his way though corridors and the flight of stairs, he made it back to the busy party.

"Fuck, Grant...where you been? The party's close to being over. Are you ok?" Blair queried worriedly, fearing that Grant had gotten lost or injured. It's really interesting how these assumptions are spot-on tonight.

Coolly, he shrugged...returning that smirk his fellow Hawk knew so well. "I'm fine. Wanted some peace and quiet is all."

"Dunno how you expect to get that at a party but ok. Fanger and Morgan are wasted, let's go ahead and get them home."

"Whatever, man." As he followed behind Larson, Grant caught the soft, almost affectionate smile the cowboy was giving him across the dance floor standing next to Charlie and Adam. He gulped and touched his neck out of reflex. The chance of anyone believing his story would be the same of a snowball surviving in hell. It's best if he keeps this to himself.

"So...Dwayne.."

"Yeah, Charlie?"

The mahogany-haired hockey captain smiled. "Have fun hunting?"

Dwayne smirks. "I sure did. McGill's so cute when he's frightened an' he tasted wonderful, too." His now steel-gray eyes glazed over as he vividly recalled the sweet, metallic flavor that coated his tongue moments ago. "Much sweeter than I thought he'd be. I'm thinkin' 'bout chasin' 'im again one day soon. Thanks for sendin' me after 'im."

Adam copied Charlie's conspiratorial grin. "No, thank you."

Hope I didn't fare too badly...like I said, this idea came to me quite early in the morning. Consider it a belated Halloween gift for fellow MD fans! :) Should there be a sequel?