All Chapters of Until The Last Day: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The chamber glowed with a red light. Camela’s head tilted back, her lips slightly parted, and her voice was not hers. It belonged to him—the ghost, the stranger. The very voice Vincent had sworn to rip from existence. “Fox.” the voice whispered.That single word pierced through him. Vincent's claws dug into the stone floor, blood dripping down his fingers as his golden eyes cut through the dark. “Get out of her,” he growled. “Now.” But the red light intensified. Her body trembled, every muscle twitching as if held by an unseen chain. She raised her hand—weak and trembling, and pressed it against his chest. “Vincent…” The whisper cracked, but it wasn’t her voice; it remained his—sounding cold and cruel. “Even her weakness…belongs to me.” Vincent grabbed her wrist tightly and said softly, “No. You're mine…not his.” Camela’s red eyes widened in surprise, and a slow eerie smile stretched across her lips—a smile that felt wrong and unnatural. “Yours?” the voice mocked. “Do you real

The darkness swallowed him whole. Vincent's claws scraped against nothing. His roar echoed, but the void smothered it, choking the sound back into his chest. His golden eyes cut through the darkness as he called out, “Camela!”There was no reply. Just silence. Then—soft footsteps. They were not hers. A thin figure emerged from the darkness—a woman in plain clothes, her white apron stained, and her face hidden in the dark. A maid. Vincent froze in place, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he asked, “Who are you?” The maid bowed her head, her voice was soft and broken yet steady. “I am the one who knew her before you did.” Vincent growled, his claws poised for action. “Don’t play games with me. Where is she?” he asked.The maid didn't flinch. She raised her head, and her eyes glimmered faintly red. “She remembers now, which means you are late…just as you were always meant to be.” Vincent lunged forward, seizing her by the throat. “You will tell me everything,” he said fier

The darkness did not remain silent. It roared fiercely and heat surged through the void, rising like a storm beneath Vincent's feet. The silence shattered into a hissing sound, and smoke enveloped him like a shroud. He staggered backward, his claws stained with his own blood, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “Camela!” he shouted into the void. His voice echoed back at him, but there was no response. Then—light appeared. An orange light. Flames snapped into existence all around him. Walls of fire formed a circle, trapping him inside. The smoke spiraled upward, filling his lungs and burning his throat.Amidst the crackling heat, a whisper slithered through the air. “Fox…” Vincent turned around sharply, ready to strike with his claws poised. “Reveal yourself!” he roared.The flames twisted and shaped themselves into figures. Faces appeared inside the fire—the faces of those who had vanished. One by one, their mouths opened, creating a haunting chorus of overlapping voices:

The darkness pressed hard against Vincent’s chest, feeling as solid as stone. He struggled to draw in a breath, but the air seemed to vanish, taken away by the silence around him. His claws scraped through emptiness, reaching out for Camela, but she was already gone—her eyes burned into his mind like an afterimage that wouldn’t fade away. “Camela!” he roared. His voice rumbled through the darkness, yet the dark remained unmoved. Then her whisper returned, soft and ragged, echoing endlessly. “I’ll never close them again.” Her voice pierced through the silence. The words turned into echoes, stacking and multiplying until every shadow whispered it back at him: “I’ll never close them again. I’ll never close them again.”Vincent clutched his head in anguish, his heart shattering as he roared, “Stop! Don’t use her voice against me!” A low laugh responded—the ghost presence always watching him. “Fox…this isn’t me; it’s her. She’s learning and fighting back. But tell me…do you truly wan

The darkness closed in like a coffin. Vincent hit the floor on his knees, his claws striking sparks against the stone floor. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath, and fury tore him apart from within. “Camela!” he roared, his voice breaking the silence with raw desperation. But no answer came. Only the echo of his own roar bounced off the walls of the void around him. Then—he heard a footstep, which sounded soft and deliberate. He turned around quickly, baring his teeth in anger, saying, “Show yourself!” The ghost’s voice drifted through the dark, but no longer sounded like Vincent's; it was deeper now, more hungry and malicious. “You can scream until your throat is raw, fox. She won’t hear you.” Vincent snapped his head up, his eyes glowing gold with anger as he responded, “You think I can’t find her? You believe I won’t break down every wall you create?” “You’re hunting,” the ghost whispered back. “But you don’t even know where to look.” Vincent lunged forward with his