The parks of Mouseton are perfect for taking leisurely strolls and chatting without a care in the world, especially on autumnal afternoons, where the yellowing fall leaves are carried on a gentle breeze along with the laughter of friends and the words of lovers. But not at night. At night, the eerie light of the street lamps plays strange tricks, elongating and distorting the shadows it casts. The wind howls, shaking gnarled, claw-like branches. It just so happens that someone is lurking, rustling about in the bushes.

“Whatever was I thinking, walking Minnie home through the park?” Mickey muttered, suddenly popping up from behind a park bench.

He had a feeling as he entered the park gates that it would be better not to go through them, but, thinking it was down to the horror movie he'd watched with Minnie, he ignored the funny feeling he had since it was so far removed from his ordinarily rational nature.

It was rotten luck that Minnie had dropped her powder compact from her purse in the middle of the park and now it was down to Mickey to go back to look for it.

He looked everywhere but to no avail. He was mulling over the idea of coming back to try again in the morning, when an unnerving figure stopped dead in front of him, letting forth a hair-raising howl. Mickey jumped.

“Pardon me, I didn't mean to frighten you! Where I come from, that's how we say hello.” the odd character explained.

Mickey scrutinized his features in the light of the street lamp. He really was a strange fellow, incredibly similar to his friend, Goofy, with the exception of his sharp teeth and his bad manicure.

“We werewolves are very well mannered. My name is Pipwolf and I think this is what you are looking for!” the stranger added, pulling the powder compact from his pocket.

Mickey's eyes had widened at the mention of “Werewolves”, but when he saw Minnie's lost compact, he could not help but feel a sense of relief.

“It's the powder compact that...” he exclaimed, but Pipwolf interrupted him.

“Yes, it belongs to our mutual friend. That M printed on it is unmistakable! Give it back to her, would you?” he asked.

Mickey rushed to catch the compact as Pipwolf threw it in the air, but when Mickey looked up, he found that he was alone. As quickly as he'd appeared, Pipwolf had disappeared again into thin air.

As he walked back to the house, Mickey felt a shiver down his spine.

“It must be cold.” he thought.

He opened the compact... and his eyes widened in disbelief.

He snapped it shut again, in terror. How could he have seen what he had seen? It was... madness!

He looked around, convinced that the movie must have really affected him. He picked up pace, making his way to the park exit and avoiding opening the compact, promising himself he would do so only when the full moon had waned. EXr6287u6NNVz+GYLY+7SBsrcqIjTEksQl6hvkLhtOzogwUEg6k7NKkMkEKPp6LyPax8lT9VnO+uJTeQipvxVw==