4 Chapter 3: Return.

Later…..

"Hello, Mr. Gaunt, we are from the International Climbing Association, and we ask that you come with us….." A stern-looking Caucasian man stepped forwards. He was muscular and a little flabby, wearing a thick black jacket and a pair of roughed-up jeans. Large square glasses adorned the bridge of his nose and his brown eyes were filled with professionalism. Reaching into his pocket, he procured a certificate of identification, a small paper of sorts, which he handed to Charlus.

It was at this time, that Charlus knew, he had encountered a member of the SCP Foundation. All his intuition screamed it. While he somewhat fit the whole climber vibe, there was something more to him. Reading through the papers, it truly seemed legitimate, and if Charlus didn't know better, then he would have thought so too.

Smiling, Charlus nodded his head, before speaking:

"The ICA? I suppose you are asking about the storm?"

"Yes indeed…. But we are here to inquire about some other…. Matters too." The stern "agent" beckoned for him to follow as they walked down the pebbly rock-filled road. A weather-stained sign stood nearby, crooked. Above, Charlus could see Mt. Everest, which towered above everything else, encased in cloud and snow.

He whistled a bit. Charlus had descended the rest of the mountain with not much of a problem, save the normal challenges that one usually faced when mountain climbing. SCP-1529 didn't show up which wasted all of his precious time planning, but also gave him some solace and let him relax a little.

Now, all he had to do, was lying through his teeth and completely fool the Foundation. Then, Charlus would be on his way to some other place in the world, and everything would hopefully go down in history.

It was truly a coincidence that he had received a skill tailored for lying just a few hours prior….. Strange. It felt very uncanny, so Charlus put it aside. He couldn't really question this "system" of his, so for now, many mysteries would stay in the dark.

Soon, Charlus and the stern Agent walked down a worn path, before entering a small metal trailer. Inside they walked, and he found himself in a small "interrogation" room of sorts. The walls were sterile and metal and a hanging light flickered a bit, its bright LED irritating Charlus's eyes.

The Agent beckoned for him to sit down on an old metal chair, which he did. With a loud scrape, Charlus made himself comfortable as he sat there, waiting. Right in front of him, was a stark wooden table that somewhat resembled a painted block of wood, with a small recording tape atop that.

On the other side, a stout man of possibly Chinese descent stood there, back straight and eyes clear. Adjusting his glasses, the man cleared his throat, before beginning to speak:

"Hello…. Mr. Gaunt? Yes?"

Charlus nodded in confirmation, and the speaker continued on.

"Congratulations on ascending to the top of Everest at such a young age. And by fact, the Eighth Purgatory, an extremely stellar achievement that is. While we don't want to bore you, as this journey has probably been quite tiring for you, recently, there have been some erratic storms on Everest, and we believe there is some geological factor to it. Can you help us answer a few questions?"

Charlus smiled wide, nodding. There truly had been an unusual amount of unpredictable storms of all different sorts that had hit Everest recently. They had a pretty good alibi it seemed.

"Yes, go on ahead." He said nonchalantly.

Nodding, the interviewer reached down to a pile of documents, browsing through them before speaking:

"Now, have you seen any…. Unusual things during the climb? Like something out of the ordinary on the expedition?"

"Hmm….. I can't say there was anything that strange up there. It was about as normal as Everest gets, you know, freezing cold temperature, dead corpses, the normal." Pausing, Charlus coughed a little, before continuing on:

"Everything was pretty usual for that hell of a mountain….. On the way up. The Eighth Purgatory was very 'fun', the safest route on the whole mountain, really. " Charlus sighed dramatically as he thought back to the climb. The Purgatory was filled with endless danger, narrow crevices, grip-less walls, slippery surfaces, and so much more…..

"So, you really didn't see anything?" The interviewer spoke again, attempting to edge the conversation back to the main topic of interest.

"Nope." Shrugging, Charlus ruffled his hair messily, yawning.

The interviewer sighed as he adjusted his glasses. Looking down at his folder, he combed through the rest of the questions he had to go through. This was going to be a complete drag…..

A long monotone talk later.

Flourishing his black hair, Charlus sat in a small blue bus silently. He groaned a little as they crossed over a bump, still thinking about the SCP-1529 incident. The rest of the interview had gone without a hitch… The interviewer talked with him about some more minor details, along with some weather-related things to sell the whole situation, before allowing him to leave.

Charlus was sure, that as long as nothing drastic happened to him, or as long as he didn't do anything noteworthy, he would mostly fall off the Foundations radar.

Now, he was on a trip back down the mountain, and in good time, he would be out of the Himalayas and into the thick of Nepal. From there, he would travel all the way back to America and lie low there for a while. But his more finite destination would be California. While he wanted to go to Italy or Tokyo, he discovered that Everest had eaten up quite a bit of his funds.

Not to mention that his job was there….

While he wandered around quite a lot, his home happened to be in a small suburban community on the California coast. It was a nice small place with not much interference or foot traffick. A perfect place to lie low for a while, and the fact that it was his home also helped.

While his dreams of seeing the Tokyo Tower and taking pictures of Snow Monkeys had been shattered, he had some other plans….. Now that Charlus thought about it, he could have spent his funds relaxing in a steaming onsen instead of being on the tallest mountain on Earth. Sighing a little in some regret, he shook his head. Everest, for all the bounty he had received, was worth it. Better not dwell on past regrets.

A Week Later….

"Home, sweet home..." Charlus barged in through the doorway, sweat covering his back. He welcomed the wonderful year-round California heat with open arms, but he didn't want to get sunburned. Entering his quaint house, he yawned, dumping his bags and luggage on the ground, before collapsing onto his small couch.

Looking around him, he surveyed his house. It was very much the same, with a broad blue carpet on the floor and a simple wooden table to the side. A giant window let one see into the streets outside, where sleepy modern houses lay.

Above, the sky was a hazy black, with a few pigeons fluttering about. The sun was rising over the horizon, casting an earthly orange glow, and the house was quiet.

It was simple and homey, a vibe that Charlus enjoyed greatly.

Staring at his luggage, he groaned. There really wouldn't be anything to do in the following months. He had a job working at the local convenience stores, but those hours were quite short, due to the lack of customers around. Despite this, the owner, a burly bear-like man by the name of Anderson still kept it running, having quite some wealth behind him.

Anderson had specifically told him to avoid Everest, and go for another mountain, but Charlus went anyway. The two had become good acquaintances, due to their similarities and love of food. This "community" was pretty boring too, and there weren't many interesting people to talk to. Most of the population was made up of elderly citizens and upper-class families.

He would go back to work in a few days, so for now, he had some time to relax and chill about town. Southern Brook Community this place was called, named for some obscure creek that a settler had built an old wooden cabin by.

It was early noon now, and he'd just arrived back from the airport. He'd taken a taxi back, it was about a twenty-minute drive from LAX, so it hadn't been unbearable. Sitting there for a while more, he finally stood back up, yawning loudly as he got up.

Walking into his garage, he waved aside some dust as he walked over to turn on the water. Reaching out, he easily twisted open a valve, before giving it a good slap. Within seconds, the water had turned back on.

It was a lot easier now with [Iron Grip Of The Mountain], which helped him twist the valve, which had been a pain to turn back then. It had always been jammed in place.

Even if he didn't really trust these "achievements", they were still handy, and he didn't seem to be losing his soul or going insane, which was somewhat of a relief.

Grumbling, Charlus sighed as he walked around a neatly stacked pile of boxes, heading over to a panel. Working about, soon, the dusty garage was lit by warm orange lights. It was a neat place, that he mostly used as storage and such.

To the side, an SUV sat. It was a smaller model, with room for four people. About the same height as him, the vehicle had small black tires and mostly everything would expect from a car. On the right of the car, were many cardboard boxes, all of them stacked into a rectangular mass. The walls of the garage had been converted into miniature cabinets, with some cluttered tools and other items dispersed about.

Rubbing his stomach, Charlus quickly made work of his luggage, organizing a few souvenirs, throwing some clothes into the washer, and folding away the rest of them into his wardrobe. Grabbing a towel and some new clothes, Charlus made his way down the house hallway and into the bathroom.

Walking over, he turned it on, watching as water soon began drizzling down from the showerhead. Stepping in, he took a quick cold shower, the freezing water completely awakening him from his previously sleepy state. Scrubbing away, the soapy foam was washed away, and the young man breathed in a sigh of relief. Cracking his neck, he sighed, eyelashes fluttering.

Shaking off the water, Charlus dried himself, slipping into the clothes that he'd prepared. They were casual clothes, that one would find if they simply walked down a San Francisco street. He wore a pair of loose grey shorts, and a red t-shirt, along with a pair of sunglasses to fit the whole look.

Strolling out into the sunshine, he sniffed the air, propping up his glasses. He'd truly achieved a lot in the past few weeks, which gave him quite the sense of self-belonging and accomplishment. Charlus smirked. The days to come would be turbulent and exciting times, for sure…..

But first. Instant ramen.

A minute or two had passed, and Charlus walked down the road. Small palm trees swayed in the wind, their long tear-shaped leaves rustling, and their long thin trunks a bright red-brown. The sidewalk was paved a bright white, with barely any weeds in sight. Around the neighborhood were various flora and fauna.

Large bramble bushes sat in people's yards and smiling sunflowers faced towards the East. Grand two-story houses sat on all sides, with giant glass windows and minimalistic metallicized walls.There roofs were made from deep spruce tiles, and there were at least three lawn chairs in every front yard. It was a nice little town indeed.

Charlus's house was among the cheapest around, but he wasn't really complaining. It was good real estate in a relatively safe and relaxing neighborhood. Just because he liked chaos and excitement at times, did not mean that he enjoyed having teenage hoodlums and screaming morons running around on skateboards.

Taking a turn at the bend, Charlus passed by a streetlight, before finally arriving in front of a building. It was larger than most of the other homes around and gave one a woodsy feel. Its walls were covered in various movie and hunting posters, with stacks of magazines laying around in piles on tables.

A crate of freshly imported snacks of some sort sat next to the entrance, and through a large glass window, one could see that it was a convenience store. Actually, that was a long stretch. One could also debate that this was a grocery store, but Anderson referred to it as his "convenience store", so everyone just thought of it that way.

Walking through the automatic doors, he was immediately blasted by the scent of Thai spices, and cold air. Being a little sensitive to sunlight, Benedict always had the air conditioning on pretty high, which could at times be a drag. Well, for other people. Charlus had just adventured into some pretty "chilly" terrain, so this place felt like a breeze.

Passing by a few shelves stuffed to the brim with different chips, he soon found the front counter. It was basically a large wooden log, with a few computer appliances on it. A small dartboard sat to the side, and a large map was embedded into its rough wooden surface.

It was something that one would find in those old National Park towns up in Yellowstone. Charlus wouldn't be going near that park for quite some while now. After all, the Foundation's influence there was extremely overwhelming, most likely due to the…. Certain few existential-related anomalies, and the whole volcano situation.

Walking over, he looked about, before stopping in front of a shelf. Browsing through it, Charlus reached out for a container. It was small and bowl-like, made of smooth plastic. Its label read: "Chef's Specialty Spicy Shoyu Ramen".

Nodding to himself, Charlus turned back over.

"Well, I thought I wouldn't see you again. It seems you didn't freeze to death." A gruff, chuckling voice suddenly sprouted from behind Charlus, as the young man looked over his shoulder, smirking.

"Aww…. It's only just the tallest mountain in the world. There is a 60% chance of getting up there, you know?"

The gruff-voiced individual snorted. "That's when people have a guide with them and are not solo-climbing the most dangerous path on that whole damned trail….."

"Miss me?" Charlus spread out his arms, his smile wide and creepy,

Walking out from behind the corner, a tall bear of a man stood. He was what one would normally find in an old American War Movie, with broad shoulders and giant muscles. A scruffy black beard hung down to his chest, and the rest of his messy hair came down to his shoulders.

The man's eyes were a light green, and he wore a leather aviator jacket and a pair of camouflage khaki pants. Anderson was a ragtag type of guy, and from what Charlus remembered, the man was half Vietnamese and half Spanish.

Smiling, Anderson revealed a set of surprisingly clean white teeth, before scowling:

"Ugh....Damned kid."

"I love to hear it!" Clapping Anderson on the shoulder, Charlus nodded over-enthusiastically, causing the older man to sigh.

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