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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.

150+ 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 4 of 10

A Life Running Parallel

Weekly Contest #337

Walking on the avenue, I duck the wet drops of whatever ungodly liquid leaks from the EL train above. The ground shakes as the giant heap of metal roars overhead, so loud you’d never know if an earthquake was happening at the same time. The screech of the brakes pierces the air, loud enough to drown out my own thoughts. Beneath the bridge, sound ricochets off concrete, an echo chamber of relentless noise.I pick up my pace to escape the cold, darkness—longer strides, breath quickening—until I reach the light at the end of the tunnel. The bord...

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The Complete Idiot's Guide to Managing Your Undead Lifestyle

Weekly Contest #338

Danny closed The Complete Idiot's Guide to Managing Your Undead Lifestyle and tossed it onto the coffee table, where it landed next to a half-eaten gas station burrito and three empty Monster Energy cans. The book had been zero help. Chapter seven promised "Practical Tips for Maintaining Human Relationships," but it was mostly Victorian-era advice about not drinking your servants and shit about finding discreet donors at opium dens."Opium dens," Danny muttered to his empty apartment. "Yeah, let me just head down to the Tucson opium den. It's...

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The Search

Weekly Contest #337

I was helping out behind the counter of my brother’s bar one day, hoping that the computer in the back would go down so I could go do something else, when I picked up a strong scent of peaches and roses. It was so enticing and intoxicating that if I wasn’t already leaning on the counter, I’d probably be on the floor. I looked around to see a tall, young woman who looked to be in her late 20s or early 30s. She wore her hair in a short reddish-brown afro. The color of her golden, star-shaped earrings complemented her skin tone. Her t-shirt had...

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The Luck of Woodrow Romine: A Dog to Whom Things Happen

Weekly Contest #337

Woodrow Romine was born in the year of his Lady and Queen, 2020. Like all British before him, he learned how to fetch and poop in the backyard by the age of one despite the persistent distraction from squirrels, whose blood he discovered was the same colour as his black coat.His master, Lady Deanna, was an American but, like all the well-to-do on this continent, of fine British stock. She and Woodrow lived in Los Angeles, but her family had been in America since 1753 and, to this day, owns half of Alabama, which is like saying one owns half ...

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Memories of a life well lived

Weekly Contest #337

It was a rainy, dark night the first time I met Billy. The late-night coffee shop, with its 19th-century lamps illuminating the old carpets displayed on the walls, exhaled an aroma of timelessness. I was drinking a hot chai, which was slightly spicier than what I usually like, when he came through the door. A short old man, with a sweet, mischievous gaze that spoke of a kind of humor only gained through decades of watching your worries fall inside the cabinet of silly neuroses.I first noticed how curious it was that, despite his aged body, B...

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Borrowed Time

Weekly Contest #337

Stillwater was the kind of town that didn’t change unless something broke. Main Street was three blocks long, paved uneven, its storefronts looking much the same as they had a hundred years ago. Joe’s Barber Shop still had its red-and-white pole spinning, though Joe himself had died years back and Joe Jr. cut hair the same way: high and tight. Kessler’s Pharmacy still wrote labels by hand and sold milk from a back cooler like it was a general store from the 1950s. The diner still served early-bird prime rib on Tuesdays. Houses in Stillwater ...

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The Tale of Fenwick and the Clock Brownie

Weekly Contest #337

The Tale of Fenwick and the Clock Brownie Isambard Fenwick had been repairing clocks and timepieces for nigh on fifty years, but never before had he taken on so many repairs in a single week. Business was brisk, a good thing. But had he any hope in fixing these clocks with sufficient speed to please everyone? His only assistant, Tompion, was ill with the mild form of influenza gripping the Strand and Covent Garden. And besides, Tompion was best suited for simple work, like cleaning clockworks and minding the shop. ...

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The Voice of the Heart

Weekly Contest #337

The Voice of the HeartBy: deduOliver first sensed that something was wrong one morning.He awoke from the nightmare with his heart beating too fast, like a child straining to escape confinement.Though already seventy-three, he stood before the mirror and saw a face that had been rewritten,as if time had retreated by twenty years.The doctors said the procedure had been a success.A complete blood replacement, a heart transplant, followed by immunosuppressive treatment and neural adaptation therapy,this was, they claimed, a triumph of reverse ti...

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Between Beats

Weekly Contest #337

The first time time listened to me, it happened under a sky that was showing off. It was late summer, the kind of night where the heat still clung to your shoulders, but the air had that one cool breath that promised fall was waiting somewhere around the corner. The city had been humming all day and by the time I loaded into the rooftop venue, it felt like every streetlight was leaning in, curious. They called the party Aurora Hour, which was funny because we were nowhere near the Arctic and nobody on the flyer could have explained solar win...

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Campaign Sole Right For 2026 Between My Past Self vs My Present Self

Weekly Contest #336

Campaign Sole Right For 2026 Between My Past self vs My Present Self Warning this story contains mature adult's theme such as curse words and sex content. Reader's discretion is advised Two females best of friends, are just traveling back from Orlando, Florida heading back to their home state of New York. Usually anyone who takes a trip to a dream state like sunny Florida would be in the highest of sprints. However, that’s not the case with those two best friends with one having a concern expression on her face while the other is busy utte...

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At night I dream I have lived many lives

Weekly Contest #336

My shadow left when I was asleep, unseen under the blanket of night. Unheard under the deafening noise of stillness. She left me to pursue another life, removed herself from the tumour of my physical form, so no barrier of futile hesitation or imaginative misfortune could halt her. She had grown tired of the follies of my constitution. Fight-or-flight never existed within me; in the face of impending doom, of consequence, I was a deer on a dark road. Unable to even react, only ever a witness to my downfall. I had watched my life over the yea...

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Bronze Feathers and Ancient Blueprints

Weekly Contest #336

"You're still up.""I made tea. The pot's still warm if you want some.""Thanks. Smells like... chamomile?""With honey. Great-Aunt Gertrude's blend. I make it when I'm working through something complicated.""The German porcelain cups.""You noticed.""Hard not to. They're beautiful. So. You sent a message saying you'd figured something out?""I did. Though 'figured out' might be overstating it. More like... the pieces finally connected.""Okay. I'm listening.""Do you remember breakfast last week? When I mentioned the owl I built when I was twelve?...

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Loving Aedera

Weekly Contest #336

The words are like rancid honey, a sickly-sweet poison that coats my tongue in a thick layer of regret. We are both still, holding our breaths as if the words will disappear if we don’t acknowledge them, if we stay as quiet as humanly possible. But they hang there, bearing down on us, demanding to be recognized. The weight of truth is oppressive, suffocating. And there is no denying my words rang true. They’d remained caged in my heart like a feral animal. Clawing, fighting, stalking for the right time to escape. The right time to flee from...

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Supernatural Conversation

Weekly Contest #336

Supernatural Conversation The following story contains cursing words and adult matters such as baby mother and religion views. Reader discretion is advice.“It’s 11 o’clock on a Friday night looking for a lady to hit the sheets...who in the hell is calling me this time of night?...hello.” a man said “Hello little brother did I catch you at a bad time?” a woman asked “Ashia?...what the hell are you doing calling me at this time of night?” the man asked “Really after all the drunken times you called your big sister late nights complaining abo...

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The Exit Interview

Weekly Contest #336

The fluorescent lights in Conference Room 3B hummed at a frequency that suggested they were perhaps three days away from finally giving up entirely—a timeline Rebecca understood intimately, having spent the last forty-five minutes watching Darren from HR attempt to conduct an exit interview with something that was, technically speaking, no longer entirely present in this dimension. "So if you could just initial here," Darren said, sliding the Non-Disclosure Agreement across the laminate table (Ikea, the BEKANT series, battleship gray, purcha...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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