Remember the mad idea that created Zootopia: Lightning? Well, here's another one that might get off the ground, tell me what you think. I'm a big fan of The Shadow and this one just wouldn't leave me alone.

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The fleeing fox kit burst through the doors of 2389 Sahara Central, sheer terror on his face. Dashing down the stairs, he hid by the side of the building, flattening himself against the wall in fear.

The frightened kit was about eight years old, he wore the uniform of the Junior Ranger Scouts, specifically troop 914, whom he was supposed to be initiated into that night. He had arrived full of energy and confidence at the prospect of being part of a pack.

But things had gone so very wrong.

The 'initiation' was instead a cruel prank by the other rangers. They shoved him to ground, held him down and forced a muzzle onto him, laughing and jeering as he lay there, frozen in confusion and fear.

He scrabble at the muzzle that was pulled tight around his face, angrily throwing it into the darkness before breaking down in sobs. He fell back against the stairs, sliding down to the ground and hugging his knees as the tears ran freely down his face.

It started to rain, fat, heavy droplets that splattered onto his fur and ran down his neck, soaking the new uniform his mother had worked hard for them to afford. He didn't even move, he didn't care anymore, those other cubs had ruined his dreams, they had shown him what mammals really thought of foxes.

He barely heard the 'clink' of something hitting the muzzle. Peering between his knees, he saw a pair of formal black shoes, shined to perfection, and a pair of black pants that stretched up out of his field of vision, but he knew it was another fox when he saw the mammals bushy tail, red furred and perfectly groomed.

He watched as the fox knelt and picked up the muzzle in one hand, the rest of his clothes were equally formal, a black suit jacket and white shirt with a long black coat. His other hand held an umbrella, also black, and he wore wide brimmed fedora. He wore a red scarf that his most of his features, but it didn't hide the sharp, angular muzzle beneath.

The fox looked at the muzzle, turning it over methodically in his paw, then he turned towards the kit, who buried his face in his knees once again, continuing to sob.

There were footsteps, and the rain stopped, at least on him. Looking through his knees again, the kit saw the other fox kneeling down in front of him, the umbrella sheltering them both from the rain.

"What's your name?" he asked, in a gravelly voice.

"N..Ni...Nicholas Wilde," he sobbed.

The other fox was silent, then Nick saw he still had the muzzle in his other paw. He recoiled in fear, expecting him to force it back onto him. Instead, the fox tossed it away with a low growl.

"What happened?"

"T...th..they said it was initiation...b...but they just...they just..."

He let out a wail and threw himself onto the stranger, wrapping his arms around him as he bawled his eyes out. He felt the other fox lay a paw protective over him, gently rubbing it down his back as he cried.

Eventually, he was calm enough to tell the suited fox everything, he remained silent throughout the story, patiently listening to the sorry tale, but Nick thought he saw the shadows around his face deepen as he got to the part where he had been muzzled. As he finished, he saw the shadows had become so deep that it was like looking into a void that somehow stared right back, and into his very soul.

As he finished, the stranger silently offered him the umbrella. He cautiously took it, as the unknown fox stood up, turned, and strode straight up the stairs towards the building.

"Hey!" Nick called out, causing the fox to pause, one paw on the door handle.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, nervously. He didn't want to make what happened even worse by brining a grown up into it.

"I'm going to give them a taste of their own medicine," he growled.

Before Nick could stop him, the stranger pushed open the door and disappeared inside. For a while there was nothing, just the pitter patter of rain on the umbrella as he watched the door. Curiosity taking hold, the kit pattered up to the door and peered through the glass front to try and see if anything had happened.

A sharp cackle suddenly broke the silence and Nick leapt back from the door in fright. Fleeing back to the side of the staircase, he shook as the cackle erupted from within once more, this time followed by several, high pitched screams.

The more listened, the more that Nick felt the harsh, unnatural laughter echo through his very soul, grating and gouging up every fear, every phobia the fox had ever had. His ears pressed flat against his skull as he fell back against the building wall, shutting his eyes in terror as the laughter continued.
The crash of doors snapped him back to reality, opening his eyes the kit had time to see the group of ranger scouts scramble out the building and fall over one another down the stairs. They never saw him as they turned and stared, eyes wide in terror, at the other fox as he descended the stairs.
The shadows closed in around them as he slowly approached the cowering cubs, his arms spread wide as the darkness wrapped itself around him like a cloak, the only colour was the long crimson scarf that hung around him like a bloodied noose.

He threw his head back and laughed that awful laugh, earning a few more shrieks from the Junior Rangers, even Nick struggled to keep silent. The zebra and antelope held each other in fright and the fox kit saw tears streaming down the face of the woodchuck even as the hippo's mouth babbled incoherent words of fear.

"Think on what you have seen tonight," growled the fox, his voice echoing like a vengeful wrath. "Because as you sow evil, you will reap evil! And I will know! I will always know!"

With a final, terrible cackle, he lunged at the cubs, who scrambled to their feet and took off screaming into the night.

As they fled, the shadows departed, the rain stopped and the night seemed to brighten as the fox turned to the young Nicholas Wilde.

"They won't bother you, or any other mammal again," he said.

"Th...thank you," replied Nick, nervously. "What was that?"

"That," replied the stranger, gently taking his umbrella from Nick. "Was something I learned to do after some mammals like them did something to me. I was afraid and upset, like you, then someone showed me how to fight back, and now, bad mammals run from me."

He placed a paw on the young fox's shoulder.

"I could show you. Teach you to not be afraid of mammals like them, teach you how to make them scared."

Nick looked at the stranger, then past him where the terrified scouts had fled. He thought about how he felt when they held him down and forced the muzzle over his head. The fear and helplessness that drove him to tears, all because he was a fox. His paws balled into fists as he thought about the unfairness of it all, about how he had been judged on his species and not who he was as a person. It ignited a rage deep within his young soul.

He didn't want to be afraid of other mammals, he wanted them to be afraid of him.

The kit nodded to the other fox, who smiled underneath his scarf. Standing, he offered his paw to Nick, who took it without hesitation.

"Hey mister," he asked. "What's your name?"

"My name is...unimportant," replied the fox, hailing a taxi.

"To most, I'm just a Shadow."