Hello there!

I have no words for you all right now. I'll just let the story speak for itself.

On with the show...

Shao crept his way back towards the hallway once again. Just before he entered it, he heard the sound of one of the doors sliding open. Immediately, Shao plastered himself to the wall outside of the hall.

He hadn't seen it, but the Soothsayer had stuck her head back outside of her room, just to see if he was still there. When she didn't see him, she made the mistake of assuming that he'd left. So, she leaned back inside her room and shut the door once more.

Meanwhile, Shao was on the verge of a heart attack. He wasn't sure if he could keep taking surprises like that, especially with such consequences at stake. He stood there, plastered to the wall, panting and sweating. He was straining his ears for the sound of footsteps, of breathing, of anything.

But nothing came.

Shao summoned all the courage he had and peaked his head around the corner. It was empty. Silent. Dark. Everything seemed perfect; it was inviting him in to do what he had come to do. He had already seen Croc get into the very last door all the way down the hall. All he had to do was creep along the hallway without making a sound, open the door, walk in, and pull out his weapon. That was it. It seemed so simple, yet he knew it would be the hardest thing he had done in his life. He was torn between believing that he was doing the right thing and believing that what he was doing was wrong, no matter the cause of it.

It was unfortunate for the goat that he decided to listen to the first voice. He finally stood outside of the hallway, peering down its great length. He took a single step forward, and then froze.

"This is it," he thought. "This is where I make the choice."

He simply stood there, as still as a statue. It was fortunate that the few individuals in the barracks didn't need to step outside for anything, otherwise he would be in no small amount of trouble.

Slowly, cautiously, he put his left hoof in front of his right. Then he put his right hoof in front of the left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

The hallway was now moving past him, moving far away like his doubts. He was doing it, he was living out his destiny. He had already passed the Soothsayer's room, and he left his fear of her at the foot of her door.

Closer. Closer, it came. Closer still. He could see it now. He could make out the detail of the wooden frame, the shade of paper that covered the rectangular gaps, the simple wooden handle of the door that didn't really match the rest of the tower's glory. He could make out every single hole, scratch, and imperfection on the wooden floorboards below him.

Finally, he arrived at the door of destiny. He turned and stood in front of it, making sure to breath softly. He could even hear his own heartbeat in the dead silence, thinking that it might be too loud, and worrying that it would wake his victim up from his sleep.

Slower than a sloth, the goat put his hoof on the handle and leaned to the door, putting his ear on the paper. Inside, he could hear a steady breathing. But was he asleep?

Shao stood rooted to the spot for what felt like hours, but was really only five minutes. Then, he made the biggest risk of his life by moving the sliding door. He only moved it half of an inch, and then he stopped.

It hadn't made any noise.

He moved it another half-inch.

Still no noise.

A full inch this time.

Silence.

Three inches. The door was halfway open now.

There was no response from whoever lay on that bed.

Shao quietly turned himself sideways, and slid through the opening. He looked around inside the room, trying to discern anything in the darkness.

The room itself was pitch black, but the faint light coming from the main stairwell of the tower, flowing through the hallways and into the small opening of the door gave just enough light for Shao to see after letting his eyes adjust.

Similarly to the Soothsayer, the goat could only make out a bed in one corner and a wardrobe in the other. On top of the bed rested a large mass, but it was much too dark to discern anything.

Shao took one step forward, squinting his eyes to see. He could just make out Croc's snout sticking up in the air, gently blowing air back and forth through his nostrils.

Shao slowly reached inside his stolen robe, feeling for his instrument of death. He finally found it in one of his inner pockets, and slowly drew it out.

Just as he tried to switch hooves from left to right, he lost grip on the handle, and it slipped from the tips of his hooves.

In a panic, Shao made a snatching motion in the wild hope that he would somehow catch it. He could already hear it: it would hit the floor with a thud! Croc would shoot up in his bed, shouting out "Who's there!?" And he would just stand there in fear, helpless, hopeless. They would light some candles, look at him, ask him and interrogate him until the Soothsayer came down the hall and pronounced him a criminal, sentenced to life in the prison beneath the city. He would sit in his cell, day after day, eating his poor meals and drinking whatever they gave him, until he grew so crazy that he started gnawing at the bars, desperate for freedom. But there would be no freedom, he would rot in that cell until he finally shriveled up and died.

But a miracle happened. Just as he reached for it, he felt the tips of his hooves grab the wooden shaft, and he closed his hoof.

The thud never came. He caught it. It hovered just a single inch over the ground. There it was, a single inch that separated him from an imprisoned life. He didn't move for several minutes, trying to regain his composure. The sweat poured down his fur and his heart had never beaten faster. His mouth became dryer than any desert, and he stood just as still as any statue.

After a few minutes, he finally regained the confidence to move his hoof to the handle once more, being careful to not drop it. He felt his hoof slide into the handle, the base of his hoof gripping the curved handle and the tip of his hoof resting on the trigger.

He raised the object up and pointed it at Croc's face. His arm trembled as he aimed, his hoof shaking so violently that he was on the verge of dropping it once again.

He had finally arrived. He had been telling himself at every step that this was it; that this was the step that would decide his fate.

When he got on the ferry.

When he booked his room at the inn.

When he put that cloth over the servant's mouth.

When he walked in the building.

When he ignored the Soothsayer's warning.

After all those times, he had told himself, "This is it. By doing this, you're making your decision."

But now he knew that he had been lying to himself. Those things all had one thing in common that this did not.

He could always turn back. He could pack his things, go home, and resume his life as a simple pharmacist, looking the other way when thugs entered his shop, searching for items in their basement. He could go back to buying two bags of noodles, walking over to the bench at the center of the park, sitting down next to the old pig, whose name he still didn't know, and eating with him as they systematically asked each other about their days and always giving the same response.

For the briefest of moments, Shao wondered how the old pig was doing. Was he using the money that he had given him to buy his meals, he wondered?

Shao soon pushed the thought out of his mind, trying his best to focus on the decision at hand.

He took in a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. His arm stopped shaking, and his aim became much more focused.

He opened his eyes again, memories of his parents and his time at the orphanage flying through his brain.

"Yes," he thought. "This is the right thing to do. Now, all I have to do is pull this trigger. This little, tiny trigger. It's so easy."

Shao counted down in his head.

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

"Fire."

But nothing happened.

"Fire."

Still nothing.

The problem wasn't with the object. The problem was with Shao himself. He hadn't moved his hoof at all. His mind willed him to pull that trigger, but his body did not comply. It couldn't. It wouldn't.

"Come on," he desperately thought to himself. "You have to do it now. If you don't do it now…"

He let that thought drift away. He stood there in that position for what seemed like hours. He felt so awkward, just standing there, pointed the object at Croc's face while he lay there, innocently sleeping.

"Three, two, one…" Still nothing.

"One." Silence.

"Oh, COME ON!" he mentally shouted at himself. "ONE! ONE ! ONE ! ONE! ONE!"

But no matter how many "ones" he went through, he could not reach "zero."

At that moment, Shao realized that his trip had been for nothing. His kidnapping of the servant had been for nothing. He knew he couldn't do it. He was no murderer.

Suddenly, in the dead silence, he thought he heard something outside of the hallway. It sounded like one of the doors sliding open. It was followed by some heavy thumps. He prayed that they would go away, but the opposite seemed to happen. They only seemed to get closer and closer to Croc's door.

Shao turned his head, still keeping the weapon pointed at Croc's face. Shao may have had a pale white fur, but he grew ever-paler underneath it.

He had left the door open. He couldn't see without some light. If someone passed, they were bound to notice.

The heavy footsteps grew ever-closer. They seemed right on top of him. Suddenly, they stopped.

Shao's fear hit a high point in that moment. His arm holding the weapon shaking, his heart pounding, his eyes growing wide in expectancy of what happened next.

Silence.

Suddenly, the door slid open, and a massive ox stuck his head in.

"Hey Cro-"

BAM!

Shao just stood there, frozen in place. Master Ox ducked down, covering his ears from the unexpected burst of sound. Shao was still looking at the door, trembling with his mouth hanging open. He hadn't meant to do it. He had been holding the weapon at Croc's face, and the shock of Ox coming in had been too much for his nerves. He had jolted in fear, pulling the trigger in the process.

He didn't want to turn around. He prayed that he missed. That somehow, he had let his arm drift downward. That somehow, the gods had protected the sleeping kung-fu master. That they hadn't let Shao become a murderer.

Shao, shaking violently, slowly turned his head around.

"Please, let me have missed. Please! PLEASE!" he thought in desperation. He finally turned around and caught sight of Master Croc.

He hadn't missed.

Shao's mind shattered in that moment. He would later try to recall that moment, but his brain simply didn't seem to remember anything that happened after that.

All he remembered was that he ran. Just ran. Somewhere. Anywhere.

In reality, he sprinted past the rising Master Ox, who was lost in confusion. Master Ox walked into Croc's room.

"Hey, man, you okay?"

Croc didn't answer, and it was too dark for Ox's unadjusted eyes to get a sense of what was left of his closest friend's face.

He went over to shake him on the shoulder.

"Hey, wake up."

No reply. He shook harder.

"Wake up."

By now, a small crowd had gathered by the door, wondering what that terrible noise had been. Some of the crowd members had brought some lit candles with them.

"Let's bring some of those candles in here," Ox ordered, his voice laced with worry.

When they brought in the light, there was total shock. Some ladies fainted, some screamed aloud. Ox put his hoof up to his mouth, his eyes welling with tears. What could have done that, he wondered? But his grief overcame his logic, and Ox got down on his knees by his best friend's deathbed.

"Look…" he started, his voice breaking up. He just stood there for a few seconds, taking in the horror of the sight. "Look what they… what they did to my friend. To… to my brother." At that moment, the huge, intimidating Master Ox broke down in tears, throwing his heavy head on his friend's chest, sobbing away.

Perhaps in more pain was The Soothsayer, standing in the back of the crowd.

"And I let him go," she thought to herself. "I could have called the guards, but I let him go. I trusted that he would make the right choice, but…" She had no words to describe the rest of that sentence.

"And now, he's on the path I foresaw. It's happening."

In that moment, The Soothsayer relived that moment when she learned that Shen had exterminated the pandas. She had foreseen the future, but she didn't do anything to stop it. It was like fate told her what was going to happen, but she was powerless to do anything about it.

Meanwhile, the brief memory of the fleeing goat came back to Ox's memory. He had done this.

Ox looked up with his bloodshot eyes at the small crowd that had gathered.

"Go! Lock down the tower! Get the one who did this!"

The few guards who were in the crowd rushed to complete his order, running to spread the orders throughout the Tower.

But it was too late. Shao had flown down the stairs, jumping down five steps at a time. Powered by pure fear and adrenaline, Shao made it all the way out of the front doors with only a few curious onlookers in his way.

He suddenly found himself in the Tower Square, looking around in confusion in the starless night. He quickly recognized the road he came from and sprinted in that direction. He ran and ran, deeper and deeper into the night. He blasted into the inn room, snatched the few clothes he had carried inside his sack and sprinted out of the building, having already paid the rent the morning before.

It was so unlike what he had expected. When he left his room at the inn that morning, he had been contemplating what he would feel like when he came back. Now, he had no time to contemplate, he didn't want to contemplate, he didn't want to think about anything ever again. He just wanted to run, run, run. Run until he collapsed from exhaustion and died, so he didn't have to think about anything again.

But his body was still on the move while his mind was doing its best to become blank. He blew past the streets, his body instinctively heading back to the river that had brought him to this cursed place. He finally reached the dock on the river, where most of the passenger ships were parked for the night. There were very few people out on the dock, only lit by a few lanterns here and there.

Wildly searching, Shao found a rugged old fisherman getting out of his small watercraft. Shao had no idea what he was doing there or why, but he sprinted up to the older pig and shoved a bag full of money in his arms.

"Whoa, whoa, what's all th-" the sailor began before Shao cut him off.

"Just get me out of here! NOW!"

Driven more by fear than obedience, the sailor stepped back in his boat and readied the sails once again. He untied the rope attaching the small boat to the dock, and the boat began to gently float away, now in control of its captain.

Meanwhile, Shao had gotten on board and impatiently waited for the fisherman to cast away. When the boat finally began to move, Shao's adrenaline finally began to wear off and a wave of crippling fatigue hit the goat. He collapsed to his knees on the boat, throwing his arm over the gunwale to keep himself steady.

He put his head down and closed his eyes. His brain was trying to postpone thinking; postpone everything. He didn't want to relive the sight he had seen when he looked back at Croc's face. He couldn't.

His inner fight was interrupted by the sailor.

"So, mister. Where to?" He had already peaked inside the bag and seen the large sack of coins. For that amount, the fisherman would have sailed him to the New World and back.

When Shao didn't answer, the fisherman shook him on the shoulder. Shao looked up.

"What?" he quietly asked, his quiet voice mirroring a volcano that was on the verge of an explosion.

"I asked you where you wanna go." The fisherman raised his eyebrows in preparation for the answer.

"Oh. Yes, take me to the Valley of Peace, please."

The fisherman shook his new bag of money. "Oh, there's no please necessary, sir."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of bells back in the city. The fisherman turned his head back toward the city, slowly putting the pieces together in his mind.

Meanwhile, Shao was forced to pray some more. Would the fisherman turn him in? What would he do then?

"Well, I could always just shove him over the side and take over the boat. I hope he can swim."

Fortunately, he wasn't forced to that action, as the fisherman turned his head back around and winked at the goat. He was supposed to help this stranger who offered him money, not accuse him of some coincidence. Even if the coincidence was probably a fact. Who was he to judge, he thought with some satisfaction.

Dum, dum, dum! Yeah, it finally happened. I have to admit, I think my heart beat faster than Shao's while I was writing this chapter! I originally planned to tack on the next scene in this chapter, but I didn't want to ruin the morbidness of this scene, so I decided to push that scene to the beginning of the next chapter.

Keep being awesome!