(A/N: I WILL finish this before Christmas, dammit! The last chapter will be up ON CHRISTMAS, so y'all can read it while escaping the annoying family members who always ask you "So, honey, have any new boyfriends?" .. grr .. damn them.

Damn .. I hurt my finger and I have absolutely no inspiration, so I'm forcing this chapter out of my ass. Sorry if it sucks.

So, this chapter will be fucking scary. I'm sure most of you know that this ghost will be Mimi in all her glory. Enjoy the Benny/Mimi horror!

I. HAVE. CRAMPS. OW-OW-FUCKITY-OW!!! FUCKY McFUCKERSTEIN!!)

Chapter Five: The Heat of the Future's Glow

Benny rushed over to the spot on the sidewalk where Collins had collapsed. All that remained was his dirty, ragged coat. A bellowing silence, broken only by the far-off sound of a cop car, enveloped Benny in its crushing power. Gingerly, he prodded the coat with him toe. It twitched once, twice, and then rose up into the frosty air, writhing and twisting into a thin, cloaked figure.

Benny blinked up at the person. The shadow from the volumous hood hid its face from view. He cleared his throat.

"Are you the Ghost of Christmas Future?" he asked, a slight quaver barely detectable in his monotone. After all he had been through that night, he was more numb than anything, though waves of genuine terror kept shaking his frame.

The figure nodded curtly, and raised a hand to point up at the loft above them. The hand was small, tapered, with skin the color of brown sugar and long, ornately painted nails. Somewhere in Benny's subconscious, a light bulb of recognition went off. Then, the scene around them fluidly shifted into the loft they had been in moments before.

Benny was shocked at how different it was. The loft still looked the same, true, but the air was stale, flat, lacking the spark of love he was so accustom to. A drawn-looking Maureen lay listless on the couch, entwined with a sleeping Joanne. She looked up as the door opened.

Mark entered. His blonde hair was closer to white than ever before, and whole new lines had formed in his translucent skin. He looked ancient, worn from the anguish that life had so unfairly thrust upon him. Even his eyes – his ever bright, soft blue eyes, always alert and ever so caring – looked murky and dark, as though a film of sadness had developed over them.

Wordlessly, he collapsed on the couch next to them. For a while, they sat there, none of them talking in the empty silence. Predictably, Maureen was the first one to speak.

"You got the plot, then?" Her voice was unnaturally dispassionate and quiet.

"Yes." The single word, forced out between cracked and faded lips, held more raw pain than Benny could have possibly imagined. He cringed away, horrified, as Mark continued.

"– quiet place, right next to Mimi and Roger. There's a little tree … it gets pink blossoms in the spring. I thought … she always was partial to pink," he finished, his voice cracking. Maureen reached over to hug him.

"I miss her," Joanne whispered, tears leaking down her unusually wan cheeks. "This is just ridiculous. Why her? Why take a little girl?" Mark leaped up, suddenly furious, anguished, an icy fire burning in his eyes.

"Why anyone, Jo? Why Mimi, or Collins? Why Roger … oh god, Roger …" The fire was extinguished as the weight of everything crashed onto his shoulders. He sunk down onto the floor, shaking uncontrollably with pure, unadulterated grief. "Why me?" he rasped inaudibly. "Why me?" They remained like that as the sun sunk lower in the sky – overcome, emotionally exhausted.

Benny turned to the ghost. "She – Miranda – she died?" he asked, taken aback. The ghost curtly nodded. Benny furrowed his brow. How could anyone allow an innocent child to die, leaving three destroyed adults in her wake?

"But – surely, that could have been prevented. I know she was eligible for better medicine! Surely, if someone had taken the time to sponsor her …" He trailed off, comprehension dawning on him. Oh, that's right. You should have sponsored her. But it was none of your business, huh?

The scene around them shifted again. They were now in a dark, yet affluent apartment. Shady, dark figures moved through the filtered light, their voices weaving into a scratchy harmony.

" … think this is worth …"

" … gotta be premium …"

" … family heirloom …"

" … enough to pay off …"

" … trade this for …"

A single conversation drew Benny's attention. Two huddled figures were pouring over a small object that sent dapples of gold dancing around the room. As Benny drew closer, he realized it was his watch, the very watch he was wearing at the moment.

"How much do you think its worth, Erin?" the tall Asian man asked, rubbing his dirty figures across the surface.

"Hmm …" The tall, thin woman that was Erin inspected the surface closely. After a while, she sighed. "Not much at all, Matt … you see, its fake."

Matt arched an eyebrow. "Fake? Wasn't this guy loaded?"

"True, but he was a cheap bastard … never spent money on anything unless he needed to." She leaned in knowingly, the gleam of gossip present in her eyes. "I heard the love of his life's daughter died 'cause no one was there to help them out with the money, while he just sat here … getting old … finally dieing." The shared a wheezy laugh before Erin pressed on. "I think you could get about 10 bucks for this at most. Sorry."

Matt sighed heavily. "S'alright … I'll get the money to pay the Man somewhere else …" He lowered his voice, glancing furtively around the room. "You know where all his money is going?"

"Nope. Probably to the government. Anything else wasn't his business, apparently." They laughed again.

Benny felt sick. He had to ask, even though he knew .. he knew who this selfish, cowardly man was, and yet he had to make sure. "Are they talking about me?" he rasped, his throat dry. The ghost only pointed in response.

As if in a dream, Benny moved toward his bedroom door, a dull panic hovering in his subconscious. It was slightly ajar. He pushed it open, …

And came face to face with his own corpse.

The dull panic spiked into his conscious, overtaking him with a rush of adrenaline. The corpse was pale, drawn … its cheeks were hollow, and there was a macabre sadness permanently etched on its face. Benny yelped, and jumped back, only to fall into unending blackness. He landed in a dirt enclosure – his own grave.

"No … please …" He looked up at the ghost, pleading. Flames were licking the sides of the grave. It was being engulfed in the fiery pits of hell, with him inside it. In response to his frantic cries, the ghost tossed aside its cloak.

Mimi.

The skeletal figure of Mimi Marquez towered over Benny's grave. This was not the lively, beautiful Mimi he had seen in his past memories, but a twisted, distorted interpretation of Mimi in her final moments. She was both more terrifying and more beautiful than the real Mimi had been (A/N: thank you, HP7 .. XD). With a cold, accusing finger, she pointed resiliently down into his grave.

"No! Mimi .. please, don't do this to me! Mimi … I love you!" Benny called weakly as the flames crackled around him, the heat choking him. Her bright eyes, now darkened to a liquid black, pierced through the heat waves, boring through his chest and into his soul. It was judgment time, and she pointed again, this time more forcefully. Benny felt something release within him as something else clicked into place.

"I WAS A FOOL!" he bellowed, tears springing up in his eyes. "I WAS AN ASSHOLE WHO ONLY CARED ABOUT HIMSELF … WHO WAS TOO SCARED TO STAND UP FOR WHAT HE BELIEVED IN … WHO ONLY WANTED LOVE, MIMI! ALL I WANTED WAS LOVE … AND I RUINED EVERYTHING!" He got it now. He understood. He knew that you have to stand up for what you believe in, what you want … and you have to put yourself aside to do that. He had pushed away his love by only caring for himself. And now he was being sent to hell, sent by his one true love … the only thing he ever wanted.

The smoke darkened, completely engulfing Mimi, extinguishing the fires, the pain, extinguishing everything …

(A/N: Ooo, cliffie!

This story sucks. It had no common theme. Especially this chapter .. ew, it was short and stupid and had no common link to the rest of the story .. even my creative language hit a new low!!

You like those cameos, Erin? Merry Christmas!! .. XD. I'm working on your story, beta-ing it and stuff .. its really quite good.

The next chapter should be a lot better though! GingerGlinda will be in it .. (kudos!!) and it will be funnier and more lighthearted … much fluff and Maureen hating Benny goodness!! Yay!!)