The sound of my footsteps echoing against the dark, smooth, pavement still haunts me to this night, as I lie in bed and stare up at my ceiling.

It was the year 2052, and I was chasing down a man with a bounty of over $10,000. A heavy bounty for a vocation who had only killed one civilian. The thing was, he was suspected of creating plans to kill much, much more. In fact, the robot that I was chasing so relentlessly was suspected in planning what would be the greatest terror attack in the history of America… no, the world.

Years before this, the serum known as HARMONY had been introduced to the world. HARMONY was a serum that, when injected into your bloodstream, took control of your thoughts and feelings, causing you to only think about the ones that would lead to a peaceful, crime free society. Bounty Officers like me didn't take it.

The serum has been compared to many things, the most common analogy being that of heroin. This was because of the blissfulness and tranquility that was felt because of the serum, and because it is injected into you through a syringe. I like to compare it to heroin because it's unnatural, and should be illegal.

After HARMONY was introduced to the world, the entire planet invented a new government party. Instead of the family fighting at Thanksgiving dinner about whether they were a Democrat or a Republican, they would all concentrate on eating their turkey, because they would all be under one party, Peace.

Peace was a party that I like to compare to Communism. Everyone got whatever they wanted, whatever they wished for. This meant no more jobs. No more responsibilities. No more worries. So, to combat the need for obvious, daily vocations to be filled, robots that were dubbed vocations were created...

This was the biggest mistake human-kind has ever made.

The vocations started to uprise, but normal civilians didn't care, they were all too hyped up on HARMONY. It took a small group of people - including myself - who saw the flaws of the drug to rise up.

Now, while regular civilians wallow in their own filth and roll around like giant balls of flesh, the group that has been given the name The Bounty Officers have been cleaning up the streets, and foiling the plans of the robots, all while asking for nothing in return.

The Bounty Officers' name is simple. The Bounty part is because sometimes we collect money for the scumbags we capture, and because we don't follow the rules. The Officer part is because we enforce the rules. Some call it hypocritical, I call it necessary.

The operation of The Bounty Officers is pretty much underground, but when it comes to chasing terrorist vocations like the one I was pursuing right now, we were more than happy to rise above the surface.

So, I had been pursuing the vocation for more than 15 minutes, and my legs were starting to feel like jello, but I wouldn't stop running. I couldn't stop running.

After what seemed like another eternity, we entered a farmer's market. Colorful fruit stands lined the streets, and banners hung high in the sky. Happy families passed by stands and grabbed goodies of all kinds, munching on them happily. I forced myself back into the moment, and locked my eyes onto the back of the head of the robot.

Fumbling with my holster that was attached to my belt, I managed to grab my blaster, and I tried to steady it on the culprit during the pursuit, but I couldn't. I was terrible at shooting.

A car flew past above, and the vocation saw his chance to escape.

The vocation ran over to a fruit stand and kicked off of it, sending himself flying into the air. Once in the air, the vocation grabbed onto the bottom of the flying car, and started to sail away.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself.

"You shouldn't say that," a kid said, licking his ice cream cone obnoxiously and staring at me with bright eyes.

Looking past the kid, I saw that his family was getting into their car not far away. I didn't have super strength in my legs like a vocation, so I would have to resort to borrowing this chubby kid's car. I didn't think he would mind, it seemed that he was preoccupied with his cone.

I whipped out my blaster and pointed it at the family, and activated my big boy voice.

Creeping towards them, I kept my blaster trained on the father's face. It took a second for them to notice me, but once they did, they're eyes widened and they stepped back.

"I don't want any trouble," I warned, "just step away from the car."

"Yeah, no problem man," answered the father.

The family stepped away from the car, and as they did I noticed a HARMONY syringe sticking out of the mother's purse. Of course.

I thanked the family and hopped into the car. It was really nice, consisting of leather chairs and a glossy red coating. A old CD stuck out of the player, and out of curiosity I pushed it in. After a buzz, Gettin' Jiggy Wit It started to blast throughout the farmers market. I laughed. The family must have been having a good time until this asshole ruined it. I almost felt bad.

I turned the key, and as Will Smith started to belt, the car rose above the market.

My eyes scanned the sky, and eventually I found the vocation, who was still hanging from the same car. He was far away, but if I broke every single traffic law in the book, I could make it.

Like I said, hypocritical… but necessary.

I zoomed through traffic, not having any regard for my safety. Cars seemed like blurs next to me, as if I was travelling through hyperspace, all the while my eyes stayed locked on the vocation.

I put my car underneath the car that the vocation was hanging from, and then rose upwards so that I was right next to him. Then, I started to match the speed of the car that it was hanging from, so that we could have a civil conversation.

Finally, I rolled down the window. The vocation's eyes widened ten-fold when he saw that I had drawn my blaster, and it was now pointed directly at his face. Seriously, you should have seen this guy's face. I still laugh when I think about it… almost shit himself.

"Freeze!" I screamed.

"How can I freeze? I'm hanging from a car!" The vocation answered. As much as I was refraining from pulling the trigger and blowing the face off of this fucker, he did have a point.

"I will shoot you! Please just either enter my car, or drop down!"

"Is that Gettin' Jiggy Wit it?"

"Yes, now please either drop down or enter my car! I do not want to shoot you!"

"I choose the latter!" Screamed the vocation, and then he let go.

The robot plummeted towards the ground at an unnatural speed, soaring past cars in which confused passengers no doubt turned and jumped as the vocation flew past. I turned the front of my car downwards, and started another pursuit. This time, I wasn't going to let him get away.

Him being a robot and all, the vocation landed on the ground safely, followed by a boom and him standing in a crater the size of a small pick up truck.

I landed on the ground nearby and quickly hopped out of my car. I zig-zagged through the streets, until I was in a position where I was behind the vocation. He had no idea. I pointed my blaster at the back of the vocation's head, and barked, "I bet my ray can move a hell of a lot faster than you can."

This must have resonated with him, because he raised his hands and got onto his knees.

I walked over to him, and slowly took my handcuffs out of their holder. As I got closer, I could sense something wasn't right, but for some reason I didn't stop. It's like on a test, when you have a gut feeling that an answer is right but you choose another one because it sounds more correct. And then you get it wrong.

The vocation sprung up from its knees and spun around in the air, its leg extended. I was just close enough to be within range, and his super strength foot struck me in the ribs.

I soared to the side like a rag doll, hitting a fruit stand, which sort of exploded on my impact. I lay in the rubble for a second. My ribs were definitely broken, but I had a job to finish.

The vocation started to run away again, and it was now or never. I pulled my blaster out of my holster and steadied it on the robot. I pulled the trigger, and the ray shot through the market, striking the robot in the calf.

This wasn't my target, I had actually been aiming for his head, but this would do. I practically forced myself to my feet, wincing at the pain of my ribs crackling with my body. The vocation howled in pain and fell on its face, drawing a crowd.

I pushed my way through the circle of people that had gathered around the vocation, and knelt down next to the culprit. I pulled my handcuffs out of the holder and handcuffed the vocation's wrists.

I got even closer. "Before I read you your miranda rights, I've got some questions for you."

"Nothing to see here!" I hollered to the crowd, who all nodded and dispersed. Thank God for HARMONY.

I grabbed hold of the handcuffs, and dragged the vocation to a nearby alley. The brick building gave off a cold, unforbidding feeling, and I shivered as I stood the robot up.

I winded up, and then punched the robot square in the face. There went my hand. But I didn't let it show, because my blow had been effective. The vocation stumbled, having to lean against the wall to support itself.

Grabbing it's shirt, I slammed it against the wall. I pulled my blaster out of the holster, and pressed it to the vocation's stomach, making sure it knew I meant business.

The vocation's gray, metallic skin gleamed in the moonlight, and I remember the oil seeping from it's head, what I assumed to be sweat. Or blood.

"Okay, I've got a few questions for you," I said.

"Fuck you," anwsered the vocation, appropriatley.

"Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn't if I were you. Your bounty says dead or alive, so I would choose your next words very wisely," I warned.

"What do you want to know?"

"The top-brass didn't tell me what you were planning. What would that be?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," the vocation said, trying to sound playful. I wasn't even remotely in the mood.

I pressed my blaster deeper into his stomach. His metal stomach contracted, but he didn't seem to feel it or care.

"Cut the shit," I warned.

"Oh, come on. This is probably my last day on Earth and I can't have a little bit of fun?"

"No, you can't, because quite frankly, us Bounty Officers don't take murdering innocent civilians lightly. Now what were you planning?"

"I'm not going to tell you… but what I will take you, is that you're possibly one of most stupid humans I've ever encountered."

The anger inside me started to rise, I could feel it. My situation was sort of funny, because out of everyone in the world who should've used HARMONY, I needed it the most, yet I was avid against not using it.

My anger issues weren't driven by anything special. My father didn't beat me, my mother never left, and my uncle never played with my junk. Plain and simple, I was just an angry son of a bitch.

"And how's that?" I asked the vocation. Every fiber in my body was screaming at my thumb not to pull the trigger.

"Well, you see… you think that capturing me - or perhaps killing me, as I see that might be where this is going - is going to stop the attack. Do you know how many vocations are in the world, Officer Chapman?"

I felt my eyes widen. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, we're very organized. I'd say by now we probably know every single Bounty Officer's name… their family's names… where they live. In fact, I bet we even have a couple vocations who have infiltrated the Bounty Officer organization. Wouldn't you say, Monty Chapman, husband to Genie Chapman, son of Jackie and Kyle Chapman, address -"

I pulled the trigger.

The warm smoke that billowed out of the new hole in the vocation's stomach warmed me. It felt nice, especially in the cold, dark alley that we had found ourselves in. Stifling a smile - that would have been unprofessional - I let the vocation drop onto its back.

The vocation's eyes had widened, hanging on loosely to what was left of what I would consider an unnecessary life. It looked towards the sky in disbelief, as if he wasn't expecting it. His mouth started to move gently, as if trying to push out one or two final phrases. I decided to throw it a bone. After all, what was it going to do? Run away with a hole in its stomach?

I knelt down beside the vocation's head, and readied my ears. I could tell that the vocation was really trying to say something, but I couldn't quite hear him.

"What? I can't hear you," I told the dying robot.

With one final push, the vocation managed to choke out its final words. Six simple words that still chill my bones to this day. "You and your race are fucked."

Slowly backing away from the vocation's head, I looked down into its cold, dying eyes. It seemed like he was trying to say something else, but after I stared for a couple of seconds, I realized he wasn't. He was doing something so, so much worse.

The vocation was laughing.

It was a dry, cold laugh, almost a chuckle. It rose through the alley, echoing off of the walls and no doubtedly inserting nightmares into the heads of the kids who lived in the buildings nearby.

After a minute or two, the vocation let out one final belt of laughter. Then, its arm fell to the pavement, resulting in a loud CLUNK! Its eyes stared at the wall that was to our side, and I looked at it, but there was nothing there. Of course there wasn't.