This was my very first fanfic for Zootopia. I edited every chapter, updating lots of things, correcting small mistakes and omitting distracting information. I righted the perspectives of the chapters that needed it the most, correcting and strengthening the focus on what matters. It certainly reads a little better. But I also wanted to preserve most of what it was originally. I didn't want to spend a lot of time redoing old work. But I did feel it was important to get it done "right" and fix what bugged me the most. It is much improved and while some information was removed from some chapters, there has been some text that has taken its place, wherever appropriate. And now I give you:
Fangs In The Shadows
Agony
In the dying hours of a Sahara Square afternoon, a ragged fox lumbered forward in his den with thoughts frantic in his head. He had just rolled out of bed. The sounds of a marching herd of camels bounced off the walls of his den. A stream of sunlight illuminated the motes that hovered in the hazy air.
"I want mice!" He scratched at a knot of fur on his chest and shook his shoulders. It was still early. At least, it was early to him. He remained in his den until the last hours of sunlight painted the walls of his den a fiery orange.
While waiting, he turned his thoughts to an unpleasant occurrence from several months ago. He remembered feeling a brief sting in the back of his neck and a strange persistent agitation shortly thereafter. The shock of the experience burned itself into his mind. Since then, he no longer groomed himself and jumped at noises he couldn't expect. Was he stung by some bug? But what could explain the voices and visions? No, even before the sting, he was not right. The memory was so long gone now that it felt like he was trying to recall the memories of a stranger. The agony of his paranoia had consumed him. It drove him to extreme behavior.
Almost time to hunt, he thought. The devouring of prey, a Zootopian taboo. The act of eating a living mammal was such a thrill for this predator. It became a need. He could taste the mice of Rodentia now. But Rodentia was specifically designed to be a safe haven for tiny mammals. It was surrounded by large gates that blocked any animal larger than a rabbit. Only authorized large mammals could enter with the proper papers. A tiny doorway allowed rodents of all kinds to pass through with ease into a neighborhood that was safe and secure.
The trip to Savanna central would be less than an hour long had he traveled by train. But secrecy was vital to his success, so he avoided areas where he could be seen by others. Instead, a foot march sufficed. He exited his den and looked out at the empty road. A lonely car hissed by. The streets that were baked from the noon sun slowly cooled in the absence of sunlight. He stood momentarily still as he listened to the sounds of the night. When his nerves stabilized, he turned left and began his journey.
He followed the evening shadows for as long as they extended across the city and ran through the darkness stimulated by hunger. It thrilled him. The devouring of prey. The old hunt. The savage past of an age bygone pumped the blood in his veins. It was the only thing that silenced his racing thoughts. He often fought to remain conscious of what he was doing. His senses have felt sharper ever since that mysterious bite. It was as if he was being rewarded for his years of hunting and living as a recluse. With such an abundance of stupid, tame prey to pick from in Zootopia, how could he ever grow tired of his hunts?
He was grateful for his black fur, a reliable camouflage at night. He hunted with such an expertise that the act barely lasted longer than a few seconds. Especially when targeting the little ones.
It was some short time after midnight when he reached the gates of Rodentia. His large shadow loomed over the brick walls and metal fence like a black ghost. He silently padded along the walls, looking for an ideal place to skulk. A large square pillar just near the entrance looked like the perfect spot. The shadow cast would cloak him perfectly. He took his position, closed his eyes and curled his lips around his teeth. The routine was so familiar. He hid any part of his body that reflected light and patiently sniffed the air.
His ears perked to the sounds of rough rumbling laughter. Two gophers stumbled towards the tiny entrance to Rodentia. Laughing and savoring the night, they made their clumsy return home. One of the Gopher's paused and stared directly at the fox by the door. But he did not react. He waited to see what the gopher would do. After nearly a minute, the gopher dismissed him as a figment of his imagination and continued onward one clumsy step at a time.
On their first step forward, he held his breath. On their second, he stretched open his maw of daggers. And on their third, his victims were gone. The predator sank back into the shadows and silently stepped away as he crushed their tiny bones between his teeth.