Gumball Cursed Novels & Stories

I thought ironically. “Stop this frivolity, Gustav, or you would suffer the consequence of my wrath,” Caleb ordered, and freaky as it may, or another fabric of my imagination, I did see Caleb's eyes glow into a different color for a split second, but I couldn't be sure since he was a bit far from me and it was too fast.

demon man? "Well, you see, you're a human. If it had been opened by a witch, I would have been totally free but they had no plans of letting that happen, but they knew I would come up with something. Some other being. Humans. And so they put a curse on the spell that if it's being opened by a human, I'd be cursed to be stuck almost powerless with him or her." "Almost powerless?" She couldn't help but mark out that phrase. What did he mean by that?

“This is not a curse, it’s a rebound. The spell that you asked Evelyn to place has bounced back to you. It seems like you ran into a small obstacle.” “But then again, in dark magic, it’s the smallest mistake that ruins great things.” Mavis’s eyes widened. The curse rebounded? How … How was that possible!? “There is no way….” She muttered as she looked at her feet which were covered with nothing but blotches and pus-covered pimples and bruises.

“Our pack was the crescent. The Alvuelas were concerned about power, they wanted to rule the entire werewolves pack with the tip of their fingers. It wasn’t in favour of the other packs as they have predicted how toxic the leadership will be, they prefer to be ruled by their own alpha since there is an alpha in every pack. The Alvuelas used violence and threatened the other subordinate packs with the death of their whole pack. They didn’t have much choice than to follow his influence and voted the Alvuelas in power. But there were two heroes from the crescent pack that stood against the whole process. They stood up against the Alvuelas which they didn’t know could lead to their death. The Al

Once each new crescent, and my strength explodes with little care of what it destroys. The gate groaned as it was slowly opened, and a mouldy piece of bread was thrown at my feet. A pitiful gesture to the monster they’d been conditioned to see me as. My father, the infamous Alpha had thrown me in the dephts of the Seven Tower Gate, a prison inside the Organization’s clutches. To the world, Opal had died – a lie spun out of thin air to keep their eyes and ears away. The truth was far less heartwrenching- I was the result of a witch’s curse, a hex cast on my mother, the woman my father murdered when he destroyed Beacon Hill City. The curse had distorted my fate, making me a threat to anyone I

Jamal asked shakily. "Sit down back and stay silent till he finishes" Abu ordered. Jamal slowly sank back into his seat while Forbes continued. "He was cursed by Naja a winter witch because of his mother and my wrongdoings to the witch, he was cursed to be emotionless" Forbes paused, trying not to break down before the council. "We searched endlessly for a cure but could not find one until now, unfortunately the cure happened to be A Sheba, the witch's daughter"

“Rosy, Pox-Lord.” “Necrosis and gout,” Samael cursed. Smoke steamed from his ears. Squeaker set into a panicked frenzy, throwing himself against his cage as he tried to escape. I rushed toward him, opening the door and letting the rat scurry into my breast pocket. He whined as I consoled him.

The Golem flinched, blinded for a second. Jack sprinted. He jumped off Ben’s back (who was crouching in terror), using the suit as a springboard. He launched himself into the air. "EAT THIS!" Jack roared. He drove his Cursed Hand directly into the Golem's chest. He didn't just touch it. He pushed. He poured all the hunger, all the rage, all the black ink of the Curse into the stone. The Golem froze. The black obsidian turned grey. Then white. Then dust.

His breath was hot… and laced with pain. “Damien—Damien, look at me.” My voice shook. “Hey, hey, stay awake—” His fingers twitched once, brushing my arm weakly before going still. Panic clawed up my throat. “Gavin, what’s happening to him?!” I yelled, turning toward him. Gavin crouched beside us, face tight with restrained fear. “He’s been cursed.” My blood ran cold. “Cursed? By what?” “It started when he was a teenager,” Gavin said, voice low and bitter. “We still don’t know the origin. All we know is that it attacks him from inside. It eats at him, and burns him.”

Her voice screeched like nails on a coffin lid: “Damballah (Vodou serpent spirit) swallow you whole, bébé (baby)! You think you escape me? Dis (This) curse’ll rot your bones ‘fore sunrise!” She hurled the gris-gris (curse bag)—a stinking knot of grave dirt, baby teeth, and vulture claws—straight at my chest. Before I could flinch, Gwo Pistoleer lunged. His boot connected with the bag mid-air, sending it rocketing back at Louise. It struck her square between the eyes, bursting into a cloud of powdered bone and bitter herbs.