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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of historical fiction short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

150+ Historical fiction Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Whether you’re looking to step back into ancient civilizations, the 19th-century, or anywhere in between, our collection of historical fiction stories is here to keep you riveted.

Historical fiction Short Stories – Page 2 of 10

Awkward Silence

Weekly Contest #348

Ever since Abraham killed his son Isaac, things have not been the same between them. They talk less, for one. There used to be more free-flowing, spontaneous discussion about any number of trivial things. A comment about sheep husbandry would elicit a joke, which would prompt a reminiscence, which would slow and then interrupt completely whatever task was in progress, and soon the two men would be sitting face to face, cross-legged on the ground or perched on a large rock, chattering until sundown.Now they avoid talking about sheep.They used...

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Helpless

Weekly Contest #347

When I was a child, my mother told me that the world can turn its back on you, but whatever challenges life throws at you, only you can choose how that shapes who you become. I used to believe that; it seemed perfectly logical at the time, but as you grow older, you view the world through a different lens than when you were little. As you grow older, the world ceases to call out to you the way it did when you were a kid. The sun doesn't shine as bright, your smile becomes an empty mask for the agony within you, and your dreams become a burde...

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Bosworth Field

Weekly Contest #347

Bosworth Field “Bring the prisoner!” the bailiff shouts. The man in strange, ragged clothes is hauled into the King’s chamber with rusty chains clanging as he shambles. His head and arms are in wooden stocks. He has a smile on his face, and fine teeth. There were few men the onlookers had ever seen his age that had such fine teeth. He stops before the King, and bows a little farther, struggling to remember what he was told about averting his eyes. The King stares him down, then stands from his throne. “The man is charged,” the bailiff begins...

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Revenge takes a turn into a painting portal

Weekly Contest #348

Revenge takes a turn into a painting portal “Thanks for coming to help, Aaron. This is my mom, Elsa” We left the hospital at the same time. This way I could follow her to the house and still have a getaway car in case things go south. These are some nice digs. And she lives here by herself? Some people have all the luck. “Nice to meet you.” Elsa is an elderly woman with the signs of living a long life on her face. The lines reflect years of sadness and joy. She looks a little shell shocked now sitting quietly in a cha...

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Blindness

Weekly Contest #347

The wine was tastier than any other time. Arwan swallowed a large amount in one go, not giving a shit about how it ran from the corner of his mouth. This fucking world was finally paying him back for all the miseries it had put in his way during his whole life. Now, it was his turn to look down on everyone and everything, even the death itself. Maybe it was the longing that made this moment feel much more satisfying. Whatever it was, he had no plan of wasting it. He won, and that's the only thing he was going to think about at the ...

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Daphne

Shortlisted for Contest #347 ⭐️

They were butterflies, just butterflies. To Daphne, that’s all they were.All those flimsy name tags were quickly snipped off and flicked away. They fluttered through the air to join others on a heap like all the butterflies she used to watch when she was a girl, exhausted and carpeting the banks of the stream behind her house in late summer, only to be swept away by wind and rain. She never read the names. Butterflies didn’t have names. As soon as the next garment landed on her table, a snip and a flick sent another butterfly to land on the ...

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The Rules of Gold

Weekly Contest #347

The sound of a hawk screeched over our heads as if to give a warning to me and Cayden. We rode on horseback and the terrain was unforgiving. The sun beat down with oppression. Steep mountains, jagged dolomite. Red earth, hot like the blood of desire and ambition. The dust from the hooves clouded behind us as we strolled along. “How much farther you suppose we got?” I asked from under my dusty brown hat that barely sheltered me from the heat. I fiddled with the blade on my belt to pass the time. “Just up ahead,” the answer came from between C...

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Chapter 1: The Lunchroom

Weekly Contest #348

Chapter 1: The Lunchroom It was early Monday morning and an announcement from the intercom interrupted my nap. “Good morning students! This school year has been off to a great start so far. Today is Monday September 5th, 1989 and remember homecoming is in a couple of weeks so make sure to get your tickets sooner rather than later!” Principal Rowley said. Paper shuffling could be heard through the mic. “The homecoming committee will be selling tickets during all lunch periods for the next three ...

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Devotion

Weekly Contest #347

It is the day of the ceremony that will finally change my fate.The day I become Queen.The hall is long. Filled with red ribbons and people dressed in white. Their faces coveredas they bow. I was dressed in a pure red gown, matching the red carpet that stretchesthe length of the hall.The dress is wide, trailing far behind me. Its corset tight around my torso, constricted myabdomen enough to steal the very breath out of my lungs. The red veil that covers myface, blurs my vision. I keep my gaze lowered, never making eye contact with Father,allo...

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The Fairbanks Inheritance

Weekly Contest #347

Typed excerpts from the Diary of Audrey Fairbanks - 12 January, 1962Day four of the exhibition for my inheritance is going quite well. Since the ship has set sail for the Amazon, I have been stuck in the hold with little room to even breathe, scraps to eat, and the constant paranoid fear that one of the crew—or worse, Brendon—will find me. My stay has been fair otherwise. Sneaking rations when the cook isn’t looking is incredibly easy, and I was able to keep my biology samples hidden in an out-of-the-way place. Lord knows I’ll need them when...

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How Sir Mordred Did Battle With the Knight of the Glade

Weekly Contest #347

When Mordred set off from Camelot (alone, as was the done thing), he had spared few words regarding the aim of his journey. They would probably expect it was atonement, which was fair enough. Like all knights, he had his share to atone for. He left on a cold morning, saying a brief goodbye to his brother Agravain before riding out of the stalwart walls in the direction of nothing. Quests were always found by chance, far from home and, preferably, when lost. Mordred thought those conditions should be easy enough to accomplish, given what he w...

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One Was Left

Weekly Contest #347

Rural Minnesota, 1915 “Lottie!” My eyes snap open, heavy with exhaustion. It couldn’t be more than an hour since he summoned me last. If only I could sleep during the day as he does. I push the wool blanket aside and sit up, shivering in the cold. “Lottie!” He's been calling me by my mother's name, a woman who's been dead for fifty-four years. “Coming, Papa.” The sofa springs groan as I lean forward and strike a match with stiff, aching fingers, the sulfur sharp in my nostrils. I lift the chimney and touch the flame to the wick. Fwoomph. The...

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I’m the Guy Who Rejected June McCarroll’s Proposal to Add White Lines in the Center of Roads to Stop People From Crashing Into Each Other All the Time

Weekly Contest #347

Based on the true story of June McCarroll. It may be hard to imagine now, but there was a time before lines were painted on the roads. A time when you’d look out above your dashboard and see nothing but open gray. A time when you can drive wherever you please: left side of the road, right side, center, into another car's windshield, you name it. The choice was yours. You were the captain of your destiny, not a white-line-painter, castrating your freedom.But all of that changed when pro-white-liner June McCarroll stepped into my office. The ...

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Diary of an Unknown Woman

Weekly Contest #347

{TW: Miscarriage, Sexual Violence, Physical Violence, Death} Sextilius 4 1634 We are starving. Johannes is sick, and he isn’t getting better. Fortunately, Jack is a skilled hunter who never misses his mark. That’s one of the reasons I married him, though there wasn’t much of a market so to speak. He was among 4 bachelors in the community, and the only one not twenty plus years my senior. Usually he takes about two days to search for game, a half day hike into the slowly encroaching trees that surrounded was usually enough for him to eye an e...

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Garden Knight

Weekly Contest #347

Garden KnightNot all heroes carry swords—some carry watering cansThe wagon beneath Arken rattled over the ruts of the old road. But his mind was not on the road; it was up in the clouds with the birds, dreaming of the future. He saw himself as a knight, riding to battle against dragons. He would be brave, noble, loyal. The princess would fall in love with him, and one day he would be king by her side. His brain wondered for a moment if the princess was beautiful. She had to be. She was a princess. He prodded his arm, shaped by years of worki...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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