Urban Myth Story Novels & Stories

“My friends, our journey is long. Let’s save this for another day, would everyone agree?” After a pondering pause, all heads nodded in agreement. “Now, I have a story to tell.” He scooped a blue powder and tossed it into the bonfire. “Once upon a time….” The flame burst again, but this time, fiery images of animals, humans, and landscapes appeared. From the Greek heroes like Perseus and Jason, the adventures of Thor and Loki, and to the African spider god, Anansi, which was our first time hearing it, every story he told was brought to life by the flame.

"Another elder invited me to his house. He told me that the people of Ohanta have done everything within their power to reduce the number of virgins that disappear from the community every season. This includes marrying their daughters off at a very young age, paying the men handsomely to accept brides that are not their choices. As I was coming back from his house, I heard a strange sound in a nearby bush. I took a closer look and was horrified. The bulls have come for me. They stood and gave me a prolonged gaze as if they were trying to tell me that my time has finally come. "The folklore is about to become a reality," I whispered to myself.

Tony had wanted to protect me, but he didn't want to break Vampire rules to do it. "After roaming around Poland for some weeks, I found myself drinking in a bar in Estonia where I heard a particularly interesting story of werewolves in an old little town cut off from most other civilization. The story went that many years ago the surrounding towns were constantly being attacked by wolf-like creatures. Eventually the villagers ran them out, and the creatures settled elsewhere and stayed mostly to themselves. I figured it was worth looking into. You wouldn't imagine how many stories I had to listen to just to get to something that I could even follow up on." He chuckled. "Enough cash and sheer

“ what will I get in return “ he asked as he got up “nothing can you for once just be a good father and help the son you made miserable for the last 18 years “ I yelled at him like I wanted to do for so many years .” He looked at me difited “ fine , but im not completely sure about the story but if its I remember it was about a wolf blessed by the moon goddess to go into this death like sleep and the wolf goes there willingly and it will be like heaven but if they fight it and refuse to do there duet the heaven will be like hell and the dream will turn in to a nightmare ..” he stopped and looked me in the eyes. “ why the sudden interest in that old story what is it to you?” he asked “ doesn’

I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity and apprehension. Aunt Florence sighed heavily, her expression grave. "No one knows for certain. The legends say that the moon goddess's wrath could manifest in various ways—natural disasters, plagues, or even a curse upon the land and its people. During those times, those who had wronged the white wolves prayed fervently for death to spare them from the goddess's fury." Her words painted a grim picture of fear and regret among our ancestors. The consequences of their actions had evidently left a deep mark on werewolf history, shaping beliefs and traditions for generations.

She had never traveled anywhere, not out of travel jitters, but out of lack of opportunity. So, Era settled into her position and waited for Dom's story with a plate of healthy vegetarian snacks in front of her. "Alright. It seems like you all want to hear about my experiences so far. So, I won't disappoint you," Dom said, rubbing his hands together in excitement. He briefly cleared his throat before continuing with a smile that never left his face. "To start with, I'm going to tell you about some myths I've heard during my travels, and the first interesting myth I want to share with you is about our existence as werewolves. Specifically, it's about our origin."

Other stories were mere myths that were intended to scare children or dissuade them from doing a particular thing. The stories told, usually differed from one village to another, as did their gods, but a few were generally held and respected by all. One myth in Umuoku that was known only to the members of the village was a story about using a broom to sweep. If a child or an adult mistakenly uses the sharp edges of a broom to pierce someone, it was believed that the victim who was in contact with the edges of the broom was at risk, and may suffer a terrible disease unless the person who caused his or her predicament, raises the broom high and pierced its edges towards the earth to cleanse th

They were attacked by a pack of wandering wolves who called themselves the Unborn. Ania's story is still very much talked about to date In the pack, although it was said in hush tones because the tale was considered a bad omen. My mom told me her soul still longs for children’s blood now. Any time I remember her words I laugh because I believe the tales were told to scare children. The reality before now tells me more than I thought existed. My story was already similar to hers but without an end yet. I kept trying to wave off the thought from my head but the more I tried the more it fisted on my wit.

he continued. No one explained further, and even Baxter started to nod his head. “I mean, even I was certain it was just a myth,” I added. “And this would not be the first time a place had myths surrounding it. There were many locations where strange stories emerged. Those places were scarier because there were witnesses, until everything was debunked.” “So it is foolish of us to leave a perfect place over a myth,” Baxter commented. Besides, as Ron had said he was trying to get us a place in his pack, I guessed it was better that we stayed here until we moved there.

he picks up the book and flips through the pages as if it’s a bloody newspaper. “Here, did I ever tell you about the girl I met when we went to Blue Moon last winter? She swore blind that a vampire tried to feed on her. Even had a scar on her throat. It went all the way down to her shoulder. Said her mate pulled the beast off whilst its teeth were still in her.” he drops the book back on the table and slumps into a chair with a glazed over look in his eyes, no doubt reliving his amorous escapades. Uriel is what you might call, a ladies man, or as he so eloquently puts it, pack first, pussy thereafter. “So, Vampires…. Not just a myth?” I regret the words as soon as I say them.