Scary Urban Legends Novels & Stories

When the reactions from the audience had died down and the hall was quiet once more, Justine continued with his lecture, his voice much more firm and resolute. "I know this may be hard for some of you to take in. In fact, I understand that despite the gruesome experience that I've shared with you, some of you may still think werewolves are mere myths, legends created to scare children into behaving. But I assure you, they are as real as you and I, and even though they exist in a realm far away from our cities, that doesn't mean they can't reach us whenever they decide to."

Luca let out a warning growl to Cal. Cal didn’t like it but he pulled Becca beside him and whispered something in her ear. “In my time in the woods, I learned many things. One of which… the legends we grew up learning are partly true. There are creatures out there, just like she described. I know everyone has felt them. Especially if you live around here. All the stories of not whistling…. we all heard them.” Everyone nodded and looked at each other.

Why did he look at her as if he were starving? The candle on her bedside table flickered, even though there was no breeze. Her skin erupted in goosebumps. She didn’t believe in ghost stories, not really. But she knew danger. And Lucien was the definition of it. She had grown up hearing stories of the Ravagers—ancient beings who fed on more than blood. Their touch burned. Their presence altered fate. But those were myths. Warnings. Fairy tales meant to keep girls from wandering too far from the village. Right?

BILLIE I am the thing they're afraid of. As we walked around campus that first day, that was the thought that struck me the most: they're afraid of me. There are all sorts of rumors and legends about werewolves who have been turned by the bite of another wolf, I've learned. Rumors that we're bigger. Stronger. More powerful. More vicious. More…paranormal.

"I thought that was an urban legend. A creepypasta for hackers." "Urban legends usually have a seed of truth," Jack muttered. He stepped closer to inspect the wall. Suddenly, a blinding spotlight clicked on from the top of the barricade, pinning them in its glare. "HALT!" The voice was amplified, raspy, and sounded like it was gargling gravel. "STATE YOUR BUSINESS IN THE KINGDOM OF THE BELOW, SURFACE DWELLERS!" Jack shielded his eyes. "We're just passing through. We mean no harm."

Forcing down my unease, I read it word by word. “According to an old urban legend, once every twelve years, on July 7 at sundown, three chosen boys will appear in the world. “The woman they choose as their mother will bring extraordinary luck to everyone tied to her by blood, marriage, or deep friendship. Money, success, and good fortune will follow them for generations.” So that was it. They all believed this ridiculous legend. They were all waiting for that so-called blessing. But the next paragraph made my blood run cold.

Luke pointed at different places outside the window, making exaggerated guesses about what they were known for. “Okay, that one definitely has a weird town legend,” he said, pointing at a small roadside sign. Rivera laughed softly before she could stop herself. “You say that about every town.” “Because every town has a weird legend.” “That is not true.” “It is. Somewhere in this country, there is always a town with a story about a mysterious creature, a haunted building, or a man who disappeared and was somehow seen again twenty years later.” She laughed again and Luke smiled like he had just achieved something. “There. I knew I could break through eventually.”

I showed her my scar of where the weird bite was. “Oh my God!” she screeched and looked at the bite. “It’s a vampire!” she said. I couldn’t stop my laughing. “Yeah, right, and I am Elena Gilbert” “I’m serious! There’s all these legends about them in Europe.” “Myths to scare children and tourists, I don’t believe it.” “Now, Skinwalkers, I have heard of those, and my friend had visual evidence, she used to live in the Appalachian Mountains in Tennessee. There’s a lot of evil creatures there for some odd reason.”

“They called him the Night Walker, and he’s like some kind of vampire or something, because he bit a girl’s throat and she was bleeding really bad and—” I yawned. I’d been hearing these rumors for a few days. Apparently some girl had been attacked on the weekend. And even though I felt for her, I seriously doubted all this shit about some serial biter. I suspected someone’s ex-boyfriend had played a prank gone wrong—or the gossips were just trying to create drama. Every college needed an urban legend. Ours was called the Night Walker and enjoyed the taste of girly-flesh. Just not enough to actually kill anyone.

He swallowed hard, his voice lowered into a pleading whisper, “One urban legend proves nothing.” “One fake news proves less. And I’ve got evidence to un-legend your urban legend.” I smiled at the resentful lines between the brows with satisfaction and straightened. “Six times, our poor Dante had ‘sons of mafia’ thrown in his face when all he did was walk down the hallway.”