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Under Oath

July 7, 1998

Officer J.C. Plumes of Cheryl County, Arkansas was headed to work like any other day. He got up, kissed his still sleeping wife on the forehead, clothed himself in his county police uniform, ate a hearty bowl of bran cereal, drank a good two mugs of dark roast coffee, got into his car, and made his way down to the police station. It's only a shame that it was just another morning to start the day. Our friend James Plumes had a knack for excitement. If only he could find some. Being a rookie at the Cheryl County P.D. Unit basically meant doing paperwork for a solid year. He hated doing this dreadful paperwork. It slowed him down. His life as a child was full of excitement. Now that he's an adult, shouldn't he be experiencing more? He would've been thinking this. Unfortunately for James, his childhood memories are now plagued with amnesia. Maybe he had too much excitement. Not that he would know. All he had to worry about was finishing his endless stack of paperwork by the time he clocked out.

The next day.

James woke up. He went about his daily routine of getting ready for work. This, indeed, was a normal morning. But maybe it wasn't the start to a normal day. James had a strange feeling on his way to work. A feeling telling him he forgot something. He guessed and guessed. I did have bran cereal. And I did have a cup of dark roast. Yes. I did. Then what am I forgetting? He thought to himself. I did kiss my wife on the forehead. He kept going. What else was there for him to think about? He had no social life. He had no firends. And of course he couldn't remeber any childhood friends. Even if he had any, he doubted he would after the accident. The accident that caused his amnesia.

Once James got to the police department, he clocked in. Looked in his mailbox. Pulled out his paperwork. Sat down. He opened one of the manilla folders. He reached into his pocket for a pen. Oh that must be it. he thought to himself again. I've forgotten my pens. He got up from his desk to inquire one from a co-worker. No. Wait. That's not it. He reached into his opposing pocket and pulled out a pen. What is it then. He had done everything he usually does, and he had remembered his pen. What else was there? He stood there pondering to himself. Then he looked up. Hold on. Where is everybody? Not a single living being, besides James, occupied the main room of the department. How could he not have noticed that before? He began a search throughout the entire building. After opening every door, and looking in every room, he gave up, with the sole knowledge of the fact that he was alone. James began to hyperventilate. His greatest fear in life was being alone. He slowly walked to the front entrance. He looked out the automatic glass door. Only his car was parked in the lot. Where is everyone? He repeated in his head. He took a look around the room. He spotted a plaque on the wall stating his oath of office. "...and I swear to protect my fellow officers, no matter what problems arise." It was strange. The boldness of the statement always caught James offguard. James wasn't under oath. Yet. When he was ready to be out in the field, he would swear to it that his duties were done. After a long look around the entrance hall, James figured it would be best to go home.

James woke up. What happened? Where am I? He wasn't in bed next to his wife. He never did remember going to bed. It was a dream. Being alone at work was all in his head. But he awoke in a strange place. He was on the ground of an alleyway. Between two large buildings. His sense of sound quickly came to him. He heard sirens blairing behind him. What happened? He sat up. He had his police uniform on. And boy, was he scracthed up. He had blood dripping down his face and body. He looked behind him, and saw at least three police cars, sheilding almost ten SWAT members, all pointing guns at him. What happened? He looked down. Trying to remeber. Wait a minute...

A morning like any other. He had gotten to the police department. Outside of the building, two men dressed in all black stood holding guns. Hearing James moving towards them, they pointed their guns at him. James stopped walking. He put his hands up. The two men looked down at his belt and saw that he had no gun. Not even a taser. They went up to him, and escorted him to the front door. The two men explained how they are trying to find valuable informationfrom somewhere inside the department. If only there weren't the police officers weilding nine mil's, ready to fire. James was at gun point when they asked him to help them take down every single cop in the building. Now James was never exactly... Well, "right in the head." He remebered the plaque. '...and I swear to protect my fellow officers, no matter what problems arise." He couldn't. Wait. I can. James wasn't under oath. He thought of how he always hated half of his co-workers, and his boss. He grinned. "Agreed." James, took a gun and opened the door. The front desk receptionist was hiding behind the counter. Reaching over, he pulled her up by the collar. She was one of those people who were always too nice. He pulled his gun up to the receptionist's face, and willingly pulled the trigger. James, at this point, had gone a little insane. Maybe it wasn't just then. Maybe it was just a normal day, wasting his life away doing paperwork. He hadn't cared. He had gone mad. The two men followed behind him into the front hallway. James heard a scream from the other room. He went into the work room and found officers cowering under their desks. "Plumes! It's you! Did you see what happened in there?!" He pulled his gun up, into view. "What are you doing!?", screamed a woman on his right. He grinned an evil grin and said under his breath, "I'm not under oath."  He pulled the trigger.

The rest was a blur. The two other men followed, firing their weapons and moving through the office. Once James saw that everyone's body was limp and lifeless, he stopped his relaoding and firing. The two men proceeded to the back of the room and to a door that needed a key. One of the men got out a lockpick, and all of a sudden the door sprang open. An officer with a hand grenade burst out. "I know what you are looking for! I'm here to make sure that your filthy hands don't touch it!" With that, the grenade went off. An explosion sent debris hurling toward the front of the office. Towards James. He dodged the flying desks and the mangled bodies of the men in black. After the explosion had died, and the fire calmed, a hole was spotted in the back of the building. It led to an alley. James stumbled over to the back of the room, disoriented from the shock wave. He crawled out the hole and started dozing. Soon enough, he was out cold.

...Oh yeah... That's what happened. He saw a weapon next to him. He picked it up. and stood up. A SWAT member yelled into a megaphone, "Put the weapon down!" I don't have to take orders from you. I'm not under oath. Once again, James pulled the trigger.

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