R. S. Bliss
Bio
Aspiring fiction writer with a story to tell, if only I could get it out of my head.
Stories (10)
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The Assassin's Tale
Chapter 1 “All I’m saying is, what are we actually looking for all the way out here?” The solider motioned to the sheer cliffed mountains surrounding them and the snow that had been falling lightly but steadily for days. “I mean look where we are Joshua! What crusade ever happened in the mountains in the middle of winter?” He kicked at a pile of snow. “Winter is no time for a war!” The soldier looked at his companion suspiciously “And we haven’t seen another living soul the whole time we’ve been out here. They are looking for something.” He said nodding, as if agreeing with himself. “They won’t tell us what, but they are definitely looking for something.” The guard named Joshua glanced around nervously looking for listening ears. “Keep your voice down. If one of the priests heard you talking like that you’d get tied to a tree and left for the panthers.” At the mention of the panthers both men stopped walking their round and stared into the blackness of the trees surrounding the expedition’s camp. The villagers in the area told stories about people going missing in these hills and the ones that made it out talked about the panthers like they were demons that climbed straight out of hell. “Big as a man, silent as a shadow, and quick as snakes!” one traveler had said before they had left. “The ones you see aren’t the problem, It’s the ones you don’t see that’ll get ya.” said another. A patrol had disappeared two nights back. Nothing had been found in the morning but some tattered uniforms covered in blood. The memory of the men’s screams waking him that night made the hair prickle on the back of his neck.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
The Great Zoo Baseball Game
The Great Zoo Baseball Game The sun was shining, the crowd was buzzing. It was a beautiful Zoo Baseball day. The Red Horns Vs The White Paws in the Championship. Who would win? Nobody could say. Pitching for the White Paws was Peacock. The rookie that dazzled with his flashy feathers and sizzling heater. While throwing for the Horns was Flamingo, a tricky lefty rumored to be a cheater.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden In Plain Sight: Chapter 8
Artemis waved out the front window as the headlights of her mothers Subaru backed out of her driveway. Still slightly shell shocked from today’s turn of events, she sat down on the couch next to Biscuits to try to do some processing. She scratched his shoulder and Biscuits rolled onto his back so Artemis could scratch his belly. She, Artemis Verlone, was an actual enrolled student at McClaren College. She would get to write her own name on the papers she wrote now and see what the professors actually thought of them. When there were exams scheduled for the next class, instead of skipping, she would stay up late and study her notes meticulously so she could attack the tests armed with everything she had learned sneaking into classes for the last few years. Buzzing with excitement, she went and poured herself a glass of wine to try and help her settle down. Meeting with the President and answering his questions would be awkward, especially since she had some questions of her own for him now. Angela had explained the situation a bit over burnt pie and Merlot, but Artemis still had questions that needed to be answered. Why had she been accepted now? Her string of misdemeanors when she was in high school had crushed any chance of her attending McClaren after graduation. What has changed? Was Smith some love sick puppy trying to suck up to her mother? Had he pushed the envelope to get Artemis into McClaren with a scholarship to score brownie points with Angela? Was the whole thing a ploy to get her out of hiding so they could arrest her for breaking into buildings and living in this flat? She took a sip of wine and sat back down next to Biscuits, anxiety slowly seeping into her enthusiasm.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden In Plain Sight: Chapter 7
Artemis danced around the kitchen in her pajamas, pretending to be conducting The Four Seasons by Vivaldi that she had playing through the stereo as she cooked breakfast. The sweet and savory smell of sizzling maple bacon filled the flat as if it were riding the chords coming from the orchestra luring the groggy Biscuits out of the bedroom. “Merry Christmas Biscuits!” Artemis slid across the linoleum floor in her socks and sitting down on the floor threw her arms around the befuddled mutt. Biscuits allowed the hug and then went and sat on his cooking pillow next to the stove with the same sleepy look of anticipation Artemis swore every student in her 8am Ecology class wore while they waited for their coffee to cool to a drinkable temperature. Biscuits’ love for napping was only eclipsed by his love for food. Knowing this to be true, Artemis cooked up the aromatic delicacy with her veggie omelet to treat her best friend on Christmas morning. Artemis wasn’t vegetarian technically, she enjoyed a good steak or cheeseburger from time to time, but she tended to eat lighter more vegetable filled meals most of the time. She would leave the greasy bacon to Biscuits. Artemis sat down at the table with a plate full of scrambled eggs and vegetables, and her favorite “Don’t Talk To Me” mug full of piping hot coffee. The music was still playing softly from the speakers in the living room. She shoveled a few bites of eggs into her mouth and grabbed her phone to send the picture of McClarrenville from the night before to her mom.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden in Plain Sight: Chapter 6
Pulling on her dark jumpsuit, Artemis explained her plan to Biscuit’s once again. “So, I’m going to the back end of the Croix Building to use the fire escape to get to the roof. I measured that alley between the two buildings earlier and it’s only two steps across. It won’t be a fun jump, but it should totally be doable. Especially because the fire escape sticks out at least half a step from the side of the building. I may be able to just take a big step and not have to jump at all. Once I get to the museum I need to head towards the back of the dome to look for a maintenance ladder or something else that could be used to scale it. There are two guards who do rounds inside the museum on the second floor, so I will need to make sure not to hangout in front of any of the windows. If I find a ladder I will explore a bit tonight and see what I can find. If not, I’ll make a note of what is up there and try again next week on New Year’s Eve with a better plan.” Biscuits gave a large yawn and jumped up on his favorite cushion of the sofa. Artemis tucked her dark hair into the black stocking cap, laced up her boots, and slipped out the back door of her house under the cover of darkness.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden in Plain Sight: Chapter 5
Smith’s silver Lincoln MKZ turned into the driveway of the Victorian model house that had served as the housing for the President of McClaren College for the last century. The house stood two stories tall with a wrap around front porch painted white to accent the beautiful light blue building. The property overlooked lake McClaren and had one of the most stunning views of the sunrise Smith had ever seen.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden In Plain Sight: Chapter 4
Artemis slowed to a walk and checked her watch. 23 minutes 15 seconds. “Sub 8 minute miles. Not bad Biscuits.” She reached down and scratched behind one dust brown ear as he panted contentedly. She never knew what their Saturday morning pace would be. Sometimes Biscuits was excited and they would run two 6 minute miles before he decided he was done. Other Saturdays he wasn’t really into it and they run-walked 11 minute miles. Today was a middle of the road kind of day. Artemis took the little water bottle off of her running belt, which always made her feel like Batman, and took a sip before removing the collapsible bowl from another little pocket on the belt and giving the rest to Biscuits. They had been following this routine on Saturday’s for close to a year now. Two or three miles at Biscuit pace, then a walk to the bakery for a double espresso mocha and a giant cinnamon roll. Biscuits much preferred the cinnamon roll eating part of the routine to the running part. Artemis enjoyed exercising and really always had. Her favorite ways to exercise were jogging on sunny days and some amateur rock climbing. She had started using the weights in Steven’s some as well and thought she was getting pretty strong. At least that’s what the “gym bro” that always offered to spot her kept saying. After one of her weight sessions he had cornered her by the water fountain talking about some kind of supplement he had been taking and getting “an insane pump”. She had escaped into the girls locker room that she never used and ended up finding a community board posting for a free yoga class put on by one of the students on campus and decided to attend. Although it wasn’t the same type of heart racing feeling she got when climbing or running, she had grown fond of the slow burn and mind quieting of a good yoga session. She had been adding some open air yoga to the end of their Saturday runs and Biscuits was not a fan. He cried and whined like he had been tied to the tree without food or water for days instead of 10 minutes. Looping the leash around the bottom of a bench they had stopped by, Artemis firmly told Biscuits “down.” The dog blinked at her and sniffed something in the air before collapsing onto his side, pink tongue lolling out of his big square head. Artemis scoffed and rolled her eyes at her ridiculous best friend. She stepped out into the patch of sunlight that was shining through the snow-spattered trees and moved into her first pose trying to center herself and control her breathing and heart rate. Her mind returned to what she had been thinking about during the run, and really for the last few weeks. How to go about becoming an accomplished art thief.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden In Plain Sight
“Another day, another degree!” President Smith greeted the staff cheerfully as he entered the Kincaid building. In return, he received the regular half hearted smiles and sleepy “good morning sirs” that he had grown accustomed to over the past eight years of running McClaren College. Customary bookbag and steaming mug of chai tea in hand, he strode down the long second floor hallway towards his office. The President’s office was a spacious room with the same dark hardwood floors as the rest of the magnificent old building. The only furniture in the room was his sturdy ornately carved wooden desk, his cabinet full of trinkets and treasures on the far side of the room, and his lavishly comfortable leather reclining thinking chair sitting by the fireplace. There were no chairs for guests, as this office was his private space and he preferred to have meetings of any size in the boardroom on the floor below. Privacy was important, and his many years in management had taught him most employees equated sitting in the bosses office to jumping into the shark tank at the aquarium. They were just asking to be eaten alive. He wanted to provide as low stress of a work environment as possible and is a big believer in the theory that culture starts at the top. He gave high fives for jobs well done, kept the break room stocked with good coffee, brought in donuts on Fridays, and arrived at work the same time as his staff in casual polos and slacks.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden In Plain Sight
The alarm buzzed blinking 10:30pm in neon green waking Artemis from a light sleep. She rolled out of bed, covered an unconscious Biscuit’s back up with the comforter, and headed to the bathroom. She turned on the shower to let the water warm up and grabbed a towel off the floor. Sniffing it, she deemed it worthy of another use and hung it up on the bathroom door knob, an easy reach from the shower. Artemis turned on her “Shower” playlist that consisted mostly of girl power anthems and stepped into the pleasantly warm water letting it, and some off key singing, work it’s magic on her fuzzy sleep deprived brain. Four songs later a much more alive Artemis stepped out of the shower. She dried off with the fresh enough towel and quickly blow dried her shoulder length dark hair before pulling it up and tucking into a wig cap. She left the bathroom and dressed in the horrendous pea green maintenance jumpsuit she was required to wear at work. After hastily brushing the long brown wig sitting on top of her dresser, Artemis pulled it on and made sure it was straight before donning her plastic lensed black rimmed glasses and winking at the mirror. Nobody would ever guess that night custodian Stephanie was also pretend college student Artemis.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
Hidden In Plain Sight
Artemis didn’t dare move. She lay frozen in the crawl space of the Kincaid building between the floorboards of the third floor and the ceiling of the second floor watching the scene play out below her. The man’s fingers crawled through the blonde account manager’s hair like the spiders Artemis pictured were crawling around in her own. The manager’s online calendar had her scheduled to be in a conference on the other side of campus for the next hour. Artemis knew this to be true, because she had hacked the calendar and scheduled it. Yet here she was in her office, exactly when she was scheduled to be out of her office, entertaining a burly man with thick dark hair. Artemis thought he might be the visiting professor in the History department from Brazil. Or was he from Argentina? It was hard to be sure who the man was in the low light and entangled limbs. She watched the scene play out from her perch in the ceiling, wracking her brain to remember why she had thought breaking in during work hours was a good idea. The crawl space was hot, dusty, and confining to the point it was making Artemis anxious. She wasn’t claustrophobic in the slightest, but the combination of being baked by the warm air from the ductwork and squeezed in this tiny gap made her want to jump out of the ceiling and shake like a dog just brought in from the rain. This should have been a simple mission. Sneak in, unlock a window for re-entry later, and sneak back out before anyone knew she had been there. Things hadn’t gone as planned, but they would get a whole lot worse if she didn’t get into that office.
By R. S. Bliss4 years ago in Fiction
