Short Story

Final Descent

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Muse on Monday where David asks us to
write a story from the antagonist’s point of view.
Originally written several years ago, I thought
this story met the requirements nicely.

© Night Cafe

Chase’s decision to flee the scene was fueled by fear, self-preservation and adrenaline. An electrical storm during the night wreaked havoc with the streetlights causing them to flash at indiscriminate intervals. Even though his was the only car on the dimly lit road, the strobe effect from the lights was haphazard and dangerously distracting. There were shadows looming everywhere; Chase never saw the cyclist cross his path.

The impact was powerful yet made only a quiet thud like the subtle reload of a gun’s magazine. The visual impression, however, was appalling. The tableau switched to slow motion; Chase watched transfixed as a mangled body performed a danse macabre across the hood of his car while musical phrases from “Carmina Burana” screamed in his head. The cyclist soared through the air like an acrobat and landed in a twisted heap fifty feet or so from the car.

Chase sat motionless in his car; no other living creature was anywhere in sight. “What to do? What to do?” raced through his mind. He’d never had a car accident, not even a parking ticket. Now he had run someone down – an innocent cyclist. Was it a man or a woman? Surely this person would be missed by family and friends, perhaps his or her parents. What a terrible fate, a horrible accident.

Yes, Chase had a few drinks with friends after work, just a few; the alcohol had to be out of his system by now. But wait; the cyclist wore no reflective clothing, not even a warning light on the bike’s handlebars or wheels. Out cycling in the night, alone; wasn’t that tempting fate? Maybe they got what they deserved.

Slowly Chase opened the door and looked around; the deafening silence was pounding in his brain, the absence of people other-worldly. With measured steps he approached the crumpled body. A shove from his booted foot confirmed what he already suspected: the cyclist was dead. A battered helmet sat near the edge of the road; the bright orange and black ‘KTM’ emblem stared at Chase accusingly. The longer he looked at the emblem the more he realized he had two choices: he could report the accident to the police and face the consequences or he could clean up this mess and get on with his life.

As he walked back to his car, Chase knew what he had to do. A look at the front end showed very little damage, a small inconvenience he would deal with later. More pressing matters prevailed; first he had to extricate the bicycle from under his car. Chase sat in the driver’s seat, shifted the car into reverse and gently backed up. After a couple of attempts he could feel the car and the bicycle disengage.

The bike was a wreck but there wasn’t too much debris on the road. Retrieving his jacket from the back seat, Chase wrapped it around the top bar of the bike and carried it back to where the dead cyclist was. Taking a few steps away from the road, he realized it would be easy to throw the bike over the edge, making it look like the cyclist had swerved off the road – if the body was ever found at all, that is. He gave the bike a hefty toss and it disappeared onto the woods below. With his foot Chase then rolled the cyclist’s body and helmet down the hill. He broke off a low hanging branch from a tree which he used to sweep the road clear of any pieces of glass or metal.

Getting back into the car, Chase lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply; he sat in the quiet of the night working through his thoughts. “Ok” he murmured to himself. “It’s all gonna be ok.” Chase started the car and drove until he noticed lights up ahead; it was a gas station with a lone attendant pumping gas into the only other car there. Chase turned sharply into the gas station, deliberately smacking into a metal barrier; witnesses could attest to the mishap which left a small dent in the hood of his car.

Chase drove home feeling much more relaxed and confident. He reached into the back seat for his jacket but it wasn’t there. His face went pale and he broke out in a sweat. Closing his eyes he could clearly see his jacket wrapped around the mangled bicycle, his phone still in the pocket, as it made its final descent into the woods.

NAR©2025

This is “O Fortuna” from Carmina Burana by Carl Orff

Muse on Monday – August 4, 2025

All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy’s Notes 🖊️🎶, The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk, The Rhythm Section, et al., and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

42 thoughts on “Final Descent”

  5. Hi Nancy!
    Finally made it here! 😄
    He thought he’d gotten away with it until your nice twist at the end scuppered his plans! Hehehe.
    As I was reading, my mind took your story to a completely different place… after said bike (and jacket) had left the scene, he turned back to the body… for it to be gone! 😳 OK, my mind wandered for the briefest of seconds, and your tale is obviously more realistic.
    Great writing, as usual! 🙂

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    1. Lovely comment and I see you still have a fertile mind! Ok, I’ll play. Let’s say the cyclist was not quite dead and had to quickly drag himself away before the driver discovered him and really did him in. Sound about right? Hmm …. it’s got potential.

      Thanks, Tom! 😁

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      1. It has potential… but in my mind, he was dead, but had been for a while… he was a bike-riding creature of the night (zombie/vampire!) 🤣
        It’s probably a good thing my mind wandered for the briefest of moments…

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  6. People have a hard time thinking when they start to panic, but after all of the episodes of CSI that I have watched, it seems like most criminals eventually get caught. This was probably an accident to begin with, but once you try to cover that up, it turns into murder. Nice story, Nancy.

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  7. Ooooo, ….I loved this Nancy,…with the darker twist at the end, …marvellous, he’ll get his just desserts when the phone’s found in his jacket! ..See? I’m totally into the storyline, …As Dorothy said, Karma, ..it’ll bite your ass in the end, …( tsk! Penn, …fancy saying ass!! Now I’ve said it twice!! 😉) 💙

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    1. You’re so right, Penn. An accident turns coldhearted, deliberately covered up. He deserves whatever punishment he gets. He’ll be living in mental agony for a while until the jacked is found. Couldn’t happen to someone more deserving! Thank you! I’m so pleased you enjoyed this little bit of drama.

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          1. !7 Days to go … yes, I’ll need a break from this confounded computer … despite everything, I written few good poems today … the anticipation of my holiday is keeping me “sane”

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  12. I enjoyed this Nancy! This is my kind of reading. It is beautifully written and you got my heart racing with the build up of tension! Carmine Burana at the end made it beat a little faster. You have the makings of a great novel here 🥰

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