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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

Urban fantasy Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From vampires at the bar to werewolves around the corner, our collection of urban fantasy stories will bring the magical into everyday life.

Urban fantasy Short Stories – Page 3

A Moment Something Happened, What Happened, Where It Happened, But Maybe Not Why It Happened

Weekly Contest #366

(This was one of my earlier attempts at implementing strategic ambiguity into a story. Please feel free to provide feedback on what works, what subjective interpretations are possible, and what could be improved upon. I thrive on feedback. It is my melange; the spice that makes it all possible.) Dedicated to Joyce Carol Oates The town of Bellevue was nothing new or unique. The downtown library was filled with the same books that have been rented and returned generation after generation while the school had the same paint job since the princi...

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The Death of the Immortals

Weekly Contest #366

Your time is coming soon, Arkyn, he had said. His visit was strange. Unannounced, unwelcome, and the first of its kind. I laughed, and who could blame me? After passing millenia in the blink of an eye while the mortals in the growing, glowing, bright cities built of man-made stone and glass could hardly last a century. Death’s domain was in those cities, not in our heavenly home.  Your ignorance, he had said when I laughed, is the beginning of your end, Arkyn. Your time is coming soon. By the time I finished laughing and asked what he h...

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The Silver Knot

Weekly Contest #366

Frequency is attunement.The broken halves of a silver earring shiver in her right hand, creasing the small pool of blood with ripples. Her other hand instinctively crosses to that pulsing sting in her right ear. Wet. Two small flaps of ear skin dangling, their connection ruined.Attunement is connection.She checks the other ear and finds a familiar metal knot, twisting, sharp on three ends. Intricate and integrous. She leaves a swipe of blood as she pulls away. On her knees in an alleyway, the abundance of white-flecked granite cobbles tells ...

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The False Prophet

Weekly Contest #366

The overhead buzz of the copper light bulbs starts to drill into Bross's head as he is barely able to focus on his paperwork. The small chairs barely fit his large stature. His grandfather once recounted to him the once great race of orcs that once ruled the plains of the south. Now here Bross was hundreds of years later: a musty, barely lit office space with only half an hour to complete his paper work. His boss, a gnomish man half his size, got on his ass for being a few minutes late to work. How was he supposed to know the royal guard wou...

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Operatic Bliss

Weekly Contest #365

The Vex were, well, vexing. They can hack our technology without having to be in range for a counter-hack. There is not anyone to call for help nor know details of the Vex as they continue to hijack the airways. There are messages coming in languages not found on Earth. Hollering in an alien language became the norm of the military. It wasn’t anything bizarre to Major John, as he called it in. The rows of burning corpses used to make John want to vomit, even the chitin filled fuckers weren’t anything truly resembling human. The ma...

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The Last Banquet

Weekly Contest #365

Adam smiled as he swirled his wine, hundreds of conversations echoing up to his place above them all. Looking across his people, his kingdom, two hundred years of building and sacrifice. Whispers echoed amongst the crowd, mostly traded among the newer kindred.“One of the others said it slew an elder.”“Have you heard of the Walking Chains?”“I hear that thing is the reason for this party.”Watching them, reading their lips, Adam felt a shiver crawl up his spine. He forced his eyes away and stopped listening, even as a few of the elders—his own ...

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The Trees Who Moved

Weekly Contest #364

At the end of each calendar year, the family goes to the same campsite. A triumphant way to finish strong and strengthen bonds that the year’s tribulations had weakened. Diverse families of all cultures, races and structures, all sharing the stories and occasional fibs of the trials they had overcome reunited year after year. Every year, endless nights of singing, dancing and sight-seeing. ___ The family’s eldest daughter was finally old enough to clique with the other girls without being under the watchful eye of...

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Tennis Elbow

Weekly Contest #364

I can’t be left in a room like this. It’s kidnapping. I never agreed to it. Find me a contract where I said this was something I wanted. You’ll never discover it. And what’s in this room? Giant dollhouses. Giant dollhouses that I can sit and…And do what exactly? Reflect? I can hear music outside. Beautiful music. Is it from a live band or is somebody playing it on a device of some kind? I don’t know. I can’t investigate. Because the door to the room is locked. Each dollhouse has a working refrigerator. The refrigerators are filled with food....

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Yuki-Onna

Weekly Contest #364

ACT 1 Hearing the news made the room feel colder than the raging blizzard outside. A fog of silence settled on the room, so thick that you could choke on it. “This has to be some joke. Dad fought till his dying breath trying to keep us away from them. Now you’re telling us that…” “Stop talking about Yauso like he’s some hero. What kind of man runs away from the fight? Instead, he decides to be a talentless blacksmith that couldn’t even make a pot to piss in! Drop this facade of your father being a hero, BOTH OF YOU!” Rojin lunged up from the...

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Glass Heart

Weekly Contest #363

This excerpt will contain themes such as self-harm and suicide, while addressing the role mental health plays in these. If you are or anyone you know has dealt with this, may this short story hopefully offer you hope in reaching out and never staying silent within your own mind. You are not alone. You are loved. "I'm fine. Really! I'm fine." I gazed up from the book in my hand to my best friend sitting across from me. These two words were used all too often. To the mailman who noticed my shoes were on opposite feet. To my neighbor who coul...

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The Man Everyone Knew

Weekly Contest #363

Ten thirty was morning tea, the first break of the day. Every morning I’d push my chair under my computer and wander downstairs, out onto the street. Only a few minutes before I had to get back to work, but long enough for a cheeky smoke break. This morning I’d run out. I walked quickly up Union street to Frank’s corner shop. On the step outside sat Colin. Everyone in Newcastle knew Colin. Or Pete. Or Chris. It depended on who you asked. Black rags that long ago used to be clothes. Bare feet and wrinkled hands etched in grime. A long grey be...

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The Oath Maker

Weekly Contest #363

Baskin the Oath Maker stood upon the smooth and slippery porcelain floor. At noon, as always, the great metal tunnel delivered a great gust of water, slowly filling the tub.“Baskin! You belligerent fool!”Baskin turned to face Skitter the Great. The roach crawled his way slowly, years of battles had taken their toll on the great leader of Rosarion Nest.“Move any slower, Skitter, and I will be forced to jump in the tub. A cockroach drowning will be faster than your useless pace.”Skitter stopped right in his tracks. Holding his pin-needle cane ...

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Goodbye, Mermaid

Weekly Contest #363

The sea expanded far and wide. The allure of the ocean breeze was magnified by the setting sun in the distance.A trail of footprints tracked in the sand, leading to the edge of the water.The water washed gently over the toes of the boy standing on the water line.The sensation sent pinpricks up and down his feet, but he paid it no mind. He was entirely focused on the sight before him.The entire sea before him was covered in newspaper clippings.The boy put his hands to his mouth.Images flashed through his head.A surfboard. A struggle. Calling ...

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When the Lights Are Out

Weekly Contest #363

The bus slows, but my eyes remain locked on the black brick resting in my hands; her voice echoes in the hollow between my ears. Our conversation is cut short by my phone’s battery. Rain pelts against the window, a crescendo of irate voices. Her angry words ring above the others and turn my limbs to ice. The bus stops and the driver stares in his mirror at me, his brows furrowed. I slide from the old leather seat and plaster a smile on my face to hide the frozen panic. With stiff limbs, I nod and step into the stormy night. Rain distorts the...

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A storm over a tea cup

Weekly Contest #363

Margaret saw Vivienne from halfway down the street. The way her red hair was styled, it made her head look like it was on fire. She wore a bandage dress made from strips of old clothes and heavy duty pit boots.It was Margaret's opinion that Vivienne did a disservice to herself, women in general and their coven in particular. Sipping her tepid tea, she thought of casting a glamour. Avoiding the attention Vivienne was clearly courting. She settled for enjoying the cool summer breeze instead.This part of London had been left to decay at the end...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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