Lahat ng Kabanata ng Until The Last Day: Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

The fall slammed them down hard. Camela screamed as her back struck something solid—not stone, not wood. The ground beneath her felt alive, warm, and slightly damp. Vincent landed beside her, rolling up with flames sparking down on his arms. A dimly lit library surrounded them. Endless shelves towered in every direction, reaching higher than they could see. Each was filled with books—some had cracked leather covers, some were stitched with silk, and others were glowing with a faint red light. The air was thick with the smell of iron and old paper. Beneath their feet, the floor quaked as if it were alive. Camela staggered to her feet while clutching her chest. “What is this place?” she asked. Vincent's golden fire blazed brighter as he struggled to catch his breath. “This is not her hall. It's something older…something worse,” he replied. A whisper echoed through the rows of books, it sounded low and wet like voices murmuring under water. Camela tightened her grip on his

The door slammed shut with a loud bang. The sound echoed through the long dining hall, reminding one of a coffin lid being closed.Camela jumped and gripped Vincent's arm tighter. His fire flickered on the walls, but here, the heat felt strangely subdued, as though the very air was trying to silence him. At the head of the lengthy table sat the other Camela, who smiled at them. Her silk gown shone bright white, not torn or bloodied but perfect, while the crown on her head sparkled as if it were meant for her. She folded her hands neatly and tilted her head toward the empty seat next to her. “Sit down, Vincent,” the double whispered. “Sit. Join me for dinner. This table is yours. I am yours. We are already married here.” Her voice was sweet like honey—slow, smooth, and dangerously enticing. Vincent's jaw tightened in response. “You’re not her.” The double’s smile widened. “But I could be. I could even be better than she is. I would never leave you or fight against you. I would fee

The hall groaned as if it were alive. Shadows twirled across the cracked floor, and the red door oozed silky threads that pulsed like veins. The double Camela shone brightly, looking perfect and calm, with her crown sparkling like it was crafted from stars. Her silk gown draped elegantly, free from any blood or dust. Her eyes—identical to Camela’s—were soft but too soft, giving the impression of a mask covering something hollow inside.She smiled at Vincent, sweetly and steadily. “Stop running,” she said softly. “I’ve already made my choice.” She raised her hand toward him. Camela stumbled back, gripping Vincent’s arm tightly. “Don’t touch her,” she whispered, her voice strained. Vincent’s anger flared up, but he hesitated in his steps. His eyes flickered with uncertainty as they glinted gold. “She looks just like you,” he murmured. “Too much like you.” The double tilted her head and spoke patiently as if reprimanding a child. “Because I am her…the better version. The one who doe

The red door swung wider, spilling light like flames through broken bones. The wind howled fiercely, battering the walls and pulling dust and bits of stone into its grasp. Camela’s gown clung tightly to her legs, each thread straining and pulling her forward. “Camela!” Vincent shouted, his golden flames erupted from his hands, fighting against the force pulling her away. His boots sank into the ground as every muscle in his body strained to keep her back. Her lips moved behind the fabric, muffled words escaping her throat, struggling to be heard. He leaned in closer. “Say it louder!” Her crown shimmered brightly. The silk pressed down harder against her mouth. Only a whisper slid out—delicate and weak. “Help me.” The First Bride tilted her head, her veil fluttering in the fierce wind while her smile widened. “She doesn’t need your flames, Fox. All she needs is the door. That’s what brides are meant for.” Vincent growled low in his throat, his chest trembling with anger. “She i

The world didn’t come to an end in silence. It erupted with a loud crash as doors swung open.Vincent landed hard, his knees hitting the marble floor beneath him which cracked upon impact. His fire ignited, golden flames flickering in the dark as he turned to look around. But the chamber had vanished. No chains. No elders. No Elias.He found himself in an endless hallway. The walls were draped in red velvet, carved with faces that seemed to change whenever he blinked. Portraits adorned both sides, and each frame showcased brides wearing veils. Their painted eyes tracked his movements, blinking when they shouldn’t have. A breeze whispered past him. The candles in their holders flickered, leaning toward him. “Camela?” he called out down the corridor. The silence felt alive, and the walls pulsed like flesh. Then he heard her scream again; it was faint but echoed through the hall as if it were leading him forward:“Vincent!” He took off running. His footsteps thudded against the ma