Pokémon Obsidian | An Orre Fanfiction

Chapter 29: Behind Camden's Shiny Smile

Only two people outside of Cipher knew of Reira's whereabouts.

On the windswept grass of a vast garden, where the air was pleasantly floral all year round, permanent marker frantically scraped across huge sheets of paper. A stapler clicked. Beyond the steps leading to the patio, ivy climbing the walls of a rustic mansion looked as if it might pry the colourful shutters open to creep inside. The old, delicately engraved back door creaked.

Lyric stepped out with a watering can. Several minutes prior, Camden left via the back gate. Once he was out of view of the CCTV that Cipher hacked, he climbed over the fence to sit hidden under a tree. Lyric watered the nearby plants before feigning dizziness to sit beside her husband. She nervously offered the Poké Ball containing her Salamence.

Although Camden didn't know everything, he certainly suspected it. So when Wilmot showed up to make them the next targets of Cipher's beatings and break-ins, he leered that if Camden didn't keep his mouth shut, Lyric would find herself lost, weak and starved in the middle of the Phenac Desert, like her 'Auntie' Reira.

Wilmot underestimated Lyric. Her Pokémon flattened his, which were already weak after taking a beating from Yan and Cypress. Camden's Crobat preferred acting to battling, like its Trainer, but that didn't mean it was weak. It darted into his path. He had no Pokémon left to fight it off. The pet Charmander in the house even melted his crowbar. His fists couldn't stop Crobat sinking its fangs into his neck. It drank enough blood to leave him unconscious. Now he was tied up in their basement.

They didn't know what to do with him. If they destroyed his gadgets, they risked a less bumbling Cipher member showing up at their house, because it was the last location registered; but for all they knew, Cipher were already lurking, waiting for them to take the gadgets elsewhere to destroy. That wasn't an option, so taking Wilmot to the police station wasn't, either. They couldn't call the police. Ardos and GoD hacked every device they owned. Neither of them were computer buffs. They had no idea how to kick them out.

Every room in their house was bugged. Camden only learned that his elderly manager Edd, a retired ONBS reporter, was abruptly replaced when he returned home from filming to find an unannounced, pyramid-shaped man in a metallic suit lounging on his couch. Every snack in the house was gone. The wrappers and crunchy bits, beginning to grow mould, were all over the floor.

'What?' Wilmot asked with a leering smile that was seared into his stunned client's mind, 'You have good taste in food. We'll be great friends! Get ready to conquer the world with Uncle Wilmot!'

Until then, Camden was reasonably free. All Edd expected of him was to be polite in public, but that was Camden's default mode. He was a naturally caring and sociable person. The wild side of fame never appealed to him. He did everything with his best friend and childhood sweetheart, who also happened to be an Orre League Champion. That drew in even parents of fans who thought he was a glowing role model, but Edd knew it was dangerous to both Camden and his fans to capitalise on it.

Wilmot didn't care. He immediately began an intense campaign to promote Camden as the industry's greatest role model. If he ever looked sad or visibly drunk, or even stood beside a smoker, he was in trouble. Edd encouraged him to post on social media, because it was good for business, but there were no rules or obligations.

Suddenly, Camden found himself being chastised and even threatened if his Rotogram profile was quiet for more than a few days. Photographers knocked on his door. They let themselves in, using Wilmot's keys, when there was no answer. Even if Camden wasn't there, they photographed the desirable house and gardens, or leftover food that looked appealing; which meant it was often inedible by the time Camden or Lyric returned to it.