A/N: Part 4 of my Christmas Carol AU for Amnesia. The final ghost brings Weyer to the distant future. What it reveals breaks him. Yes, I had to include Ozzy and the twins. It almost wouldn't work without them. And we finally get to see Alexander! Or really, who's appearing as him.

Amnesia: The Dark Descent (c) Frictional Games

Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs (c) Frictional Games and The Chinese Room

A Christmas Carol (c) Charles Dickens

Muses used (c) Kaliedo-Star and Bluethemoonwolf

~Christmas Eve, 1883~

Looking around, Weyer noticed how dark his surroundings were. It was night outside, that much he was sure of. Was he even still in London? Where was he? A figure emerged from the thick fog, and Weyer could not believe his eyes. The figure was his old boss, Alexander. He had passed away about four years ago due to some small incident in Prussia. The details were still a little unclear to the Dutchman, but he knew that he was on holiday in a castle-turned-hotel and after having a scuffle with another resident, he suffered a heart attack in his room at the age of 62 on the 19th of August. His body was found the very next morning.

Weyer gulped at the menacing figure, realising who he, or rather it really was. "The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, I presume." The spirit nodded silently, a smirk tugging at the corner of its mouth. "Where are we? When are we?" he asked the ghost, who simply handed him a newspaper with the date up top. It read 24 December, 1883. Forty years into the future!? His hand raised to his forehead, raising his blond double fringe up a little. "Mein Gott..."

Future cleared its throat, grabbing his attention quickly. It motioned for him to follow it as it slowly walked down the dark and dingy street. He quickly caught up, doing his best to keep his pace as slow as the ghost's. They came across what looked like a meat processing factory. Weyer immediately recognised the front office of the factory.

"That is my store!" he exclaimed, turning to the ghost. "Why...?" It let out a small hum and led him inside. A man, who was of middle age, was working on paperwork, not unlike Weyer had earlier that day. He seemed to be working alone that night, as the only other people in the room were two young boys, twins, who were playing around.

The telephone on his desk suddenly went off and the man answered. "Mandus Processing Company."

"Good evening, Mr Mandus."

"Ah, professor. You finally call."

"I was bound to at some point," the professor answered. "I'm still quite amazed that you had started up a processing factory without so much as an office to work in."

"Well, that has changed," Mandus spoke, "There was a store in front of the factory, and I acquired it, turned it into the main office."

"Acquired?" the professor questioned. "How so?"

Mandus replied, "The owner had passed on some time ago and his son sold it to me. Said he had no purpose or use for it anymore, and there wasn't anyone to keep up with it. Besides, my great uncle had worked with him before, so in a way, it would be keeping it in the family."

"Quite the reuse of space," the professor mused, "and to think that you only started on building the factory a year ago and it is open and fully operational now. My God, man," he chuckled, "you have been busy."

The Englishman sighed, but quickly covered the microphone when the children ran past, laughing. "Boys, please!" Once they quieted down, he uncovered the microphone. "Yes, well, it has been ten years since my wife's passing. I have mourned long enough."

"Ah, I remember," the professor recollected, "your wife died in childbirth."

"That is correct, my good man." Mandus looked over at his children, who continued to play. One of them looked up and waved at him, smiling. He returned the smile and waved back.

The professor asked, "How are the boys handling it?"

"So far, I believe very well. Madame Racine keeps a good eye on them. They get along beautifully with her, call her Justine. Since it's Christmas Eve, I've given her some time off, so the boys are with me at the moment. She and her husband are celebrating their anniversary soon."

"Ah, they are? How long have they been married?"

"37 years now."

"37? My God." A short moment later, the professor spoke, "I wish I could continue to chat with you, but I have duties to attend to."

"Haven't we all?" Mandus chuckled. "I shall talk to you after Boxing Day."

"Merry Christmas, Mr Mandus."

"Merry Christmas, professor." Mandus then hung the phone up and went back to his paperwork.

Mandus' words earlier were beginning to plague Weyer. "I never sold my store or abandoned it. What's going on!?" He glared at the spirit, demanding answers. It simply gave him a knowing look. "What, Alexander's son bought it off me!?" Future shook its head. "Am I this man's great uncle?" The spirit laughed, once again shaking its head. "Then what?" It motioned for him to follow and led him down the street.

A thought came to Weyer. While his former boss was quite a friendly fellow and practically loved to hear himself talk, aside from a few simple sounds, the ghost who took his appearance was eerily silent. This made it seem quite menacing and it honestly scared him.

The pair arrived at the cemetery, walking amongst the graves until they came across two men standing by one such grave. Weyer's eyes widened when he saw the men were his son Dimitri and Xaniel. In his old age, Xaniel looked like the spitting image of Alexander. Dimitri seemed to have aged gracefully. And judging from the way they interacted with each other, it was clear to the Dutchman that they had become a couple.

"I still can't believe it's been six months," Xaniel mused solemnly.

Dimitri sighed, placing a couple of flowers by the graveside. "I wish things could've worked out. Ever since he and Papa split, he just became more and more bitter. I couldn't bear to visit him anymore. Even Papa had wished things were different before he died."

Agrippa was dead? Given that at this particular time, he would've been almost 90, so it seemed reasonable, but Weyer didn't want to believe it.

The snowy haired man spoke up, "If anything, since this day forty years ago, everything has been going downhill. He and Agrippa broke up. Hazel succumbed to her illness. Daniel fell into ill health not long after and passed a few years later. Weyer kept isolating himself from everyone. Then Agrippa died. Now this."

Dimitri's eyes became glassy with tears. "I don't care that he was mean. I don't care that we didn't get along. I don't care that he pushed everyone away..." Tears streamed down his cheeks and he began to sob. "I miss my father!" Xaniel quickly pulled him close, holding him and trying to shush him.

Not long after, the pair said their goodbyes to deceased man's grave and left the cemetery. Weyer could feel his world crash around him as their words processed in his mind. "No," his voice softly quivered. "No no no, this can't be!" He ran over to the grave, turning around to read the tombstone.

HERE LIES
JOHANN WEYER
-BORN-
31 OCTOBER 1817
-DIED-
15 JUNE 1883
HE WISHED TO BE LEFT ALONE
THEN HE LIVED ALONE
TO THE END OF HIS DAYS

"No!" he cried, sobs beginning to rack his body. The spirit only looked on emotionlessly. "I'm sorry, Heinrich...! I'm sorry, Dimi...! I'm sorry, Hazel...! I'm so sorry...! Good Spirit, I will change! I swear on it! Just please give me a chance! I don't want to be alone...!"