Urban Myth Story Novels & Stories

Willing to break the silence again, Stone cleared his throat before asking, “what the hell is even a soul harvester? That sounds so made up.“ Everest chuckled at his plain disgust, “It’s a terrifying bed time story parents of the Gareth pack would tell their kids in order to put the fear of the unknown into them. It was, still is, our version of the boggie-man*.” Stone nodded, his calculative look returned. “But how do you know it isn’t real? Most bed time stores are myths and most myths are very real.” He waved at the four of them, “most humans think we are myths.”

"Cursed?!" Waverly repeated. Her hands trembled and she felt like she was living a nightmare. There was no way this was happening again. "What are you talking about?" Sawyer asked. His hand was resting on his lap, and he leaned forward, listening intensely to what Harold had to say. "When I was a kid, there was a myth—more like an urban legend—about the siren of the lake." Harold's eyes were wide, and his gaze was focused on Waverly. The fire light illuminated one side of his face.

I went to my music player and put on my favorite music by Maria Carey, which was titled Hero. Heaving a deep breath, I thought of my life as the song played in my ears. My life was no bed of roses. After the death of my mother, dad became devastated and went into drinking, thereby losing himself and everything he had worked for. I went to stay with my aunt in San Francisco, but never felt at home due to the way humans were being treated there. The city of San Francisco is popularly known as the city of the werewolves because the werewolves occupy 96 percent of the town. The werewolves govern the city, and cities that are being ruled by the werewolves are known as the most prosperous and weal

“But...how…how do you know all these?” “My grandmother told me about it. It’s said that they come only once in a thousand years and that helping them out in times of need will guarantee a place beside the moon goddess after death.” I’d heard tales of Sybil wolves, but I'd thought that they were all folklore. I never imagined that I would be one of them. But then, if I was a Sybil wolf, why am I not a very strong wolf? Or do I have some sort of superpowers that I’m not yet aware of?

Zeta's eyes narrow with sharp calculation as pieces start moving in his mind. "He claimed his grandmother was a midwife years ago," I continue with my voice tightening despite my effort to stay steady and clinical. "She was called to the private chambers. She delivered a child. A baby. For that white wolf." Ryan whispers "Gods…" under his breath. "No one believed her," I say. "Because white wolves are myth. Folklore. Extinct legends meant to scare pups into obedience. No one believed a grandmother's story about something that is supposed to be impossible."

If she walked in now, I might have finished what my wolf wanted earlier. A heavy silence settled. Then one elder, grey-haired, scarred across the cheek, eyes too alert for his age, finally spoke. “What was that?” he asked, voice low. Not curiosity. Fear. His question wasn’t what happened? His question was what have we awoken? Another elder answered before Ethan could. “The myths,” she whispered. “The stories we told pups so they wouldn’t wander too close to the barrier.” A third elder, older than the rest, cane in hand, leaned forward slowly.

So I popped up against my pillows, letting myself relax my tense muscles, even though my mind kept telling me that this was all just a nightmare and when I would wake up, I would still be inside my house, beaten half to death and taken advantage of by my father’s people, and Caleb and his friends would just go back to being high school bullies that were plain mean people and not…animals. “How about I tell you a story instead?” I looked up at Caroline then, watching her with narrowed eyes as she gave me a concerned look. She went to the opposite side of the room and sat down on a chair placed near the open window. The moon was almost full outside the window and I was actually startled at just

Maya, from the wall, felt the room tilt. "Stories that were never meant to be tested," Cara continued, her voice careful. "But here we are." Alec's voice was a jagged blade. "She is not an urban legend." "Cara sighed. "The Rogues won't see it that way. They'll believe what they want to believe. And belief is as dangerous as truth." The fire flared, a sudden burst of orange light.

Lucian catches a falling star and hurls it back into the sky as a new constellation. Kayo convinces the moon god that stealing the moon is actually his idea. Rowan quotes a footnote so obscure Death forgets why it came. We keep crossing, keep rewriting, keep breaking every legend that was written before we were born. At 00:03 left on the timer, all six stories collapse into one. We stand in the center of the Crucible Ring again, surrounded by the smoking remains of six dead myths. The pedestals are gone. Thunderstrike takes a slow sip of coffee.

Sugar Aquarius looked rather miserable and disappointed. “Yeah… I begin to doubt whether the so-called ‘myth’ in our demons-world is true or not,” muttered Virando with his somewhat gazing stare. “If it isn’t true, why is there a kind of urban-legend or myth like that, Boss? There’s no smoke without fire, isn’t it?” “Perhaps it’s just a fairy tale composed by our ancestors in the past, Aquarius… You know, just a kind of bedtime story from the parents to their children…”