Willamette was not just the beginning.

During the outbreak at Colorado, I had no idea just what I got into. I've seen people die. I've seen people leave my side, only to return in a coffin. I never doubted reality and played by its rules well enough to live through the wars I've covered.

But the beginning of an outbreak was not like the beginning of a war. Only one term defined the horrifying moment of an undead sinking its teeth on a healthy human being.

Genocide.

"Horrible" did not describe what I saw in the mall. People died to things that were not human. They died in vain, hopeful in surviving but failing to do so. The zombies not only added living beings into its massive, mindless army, but they also made us monsters as well. Our darkest pleasures rose to the surface, and we started killing each other more efficiently than the zombies did. Just when humanity should have cooperated, humans gave into their guilty desires and only worsened the condition of the Earth.

People died. So did the morality within me.

I've taken lives to save lives. It was neither the right choice nor the wrong decision; I simply did what I believed was correct. No one ever called me a hero back when I first visited Willamette. After all, I was no soldier for any cause until I became determined to spread the truth behind Willamette's outbreak.

Carlito Keyes served as a catalyst for my own realization of what I should have done. His thirst for revenge fueled my adrenaline to spread the truth. The government tried to spoonfeed death to the Willamette Mall's survivors, and I knocked away that spoon as soon as I could.

And I eventually let out the truth.

Things became good for me. People praised me as a hero. The survivors whom I saved spread the duties I've done to pull them out of harm's way. I even got awards for not only eradicating enough zombies to make room for survivors, but for letting out the truth behind the Willamette Outbreak to the public. Everything was good, everyone was happy, I became a hero, and I got my reward for being a hero.

It all fell down when I let things get to me. I became corrupt in a sense. The feeling of euphoria from fame and wealth made me distance myself from why I had become famous in the first place. What started out as a simple quest for a handful of money turned into an ambition I could not control. I became a slave to greed and paid the price for it by losing everything I earned.

Things looked up when I went to Fortune City to contend at that one gameshow called "Terror Is Reality." Never really was much of a big fan, but I did what I could to get money. Ironically enough, my quest to get a handful of money turned into a mission to figure out a mystery involving an outbreak that eventually erupted in Fortune City. It was like Willamette all over again, except this time, the Fortune City Outbreak was a chance to make up for the wrongs I did.

I saved survivors. I took lives when I needed to save lives. Everything I had done at Willamette, I did at Fortune City. But when I gave a horrible man no chances in saving himself, said man turned into a zombie and prevented me from leaving the elevator to my ride. An explosion engulfed me and a zombified TK within the elevator, and my life went blank.

The story of Frank West supposedly ended there, I guess.

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...Now, you may wonder why this story of mine is still on-going. But you know, sometimes, I remember that I could be one hell of a lucky bastard at times. Death seemed to hate me a lot, I'll tell you.

My story never ended at Nevada.

And holy hell, you will not believe the next chapter of my wild life. And if you do believe it...

I truly thank you for being one hell of an audience.

DEAD RISING
LENS OF WEST

Prologue
From Colorado To Nevada To A Whole New World

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...Hm?

A starry field floated above Frank West.

The chaos at Nevada had prevented him from ever relaxing, so when Frank found himself facing thousands of stars, he felt his body loosen. His eyes groggily widened as he stared at the cosmos.

Was he dead?

Frank pinched his cheek; it was a habit of his to check on whether he was at reality or within a dream. A jolt of pain did not change the scenery before him, much to his curiosity.

...Where am I? The photographer thought as he stood up from the grass he lied on.

Tall trees surrounded him, and darkness lurked within the lush forest he stood in. Only a ray of moonlight brightened his location, making things seem less intimidating.

Turning around, the man began to search for any signs of life, only to hear nothing but a soft wind brushing past him. He still had the rough suit attire he wore during the majority of his stay at Fortune City. Heck, he even had his camera with him.

His camera.

Good God, if my camera is busted, I swear I'm gonna-

With great haste, Frank West checked the condition of his camera, only to find that it worked perfectly fine.

...Okay, that's a huge relief. But what's going on? The photojournalist thought as he looked up once more.

No seriously, what the hell am I supposed to do right now?

Indeed, he had no idea on what to do, especially when he suddenly woke up at a forest he never recalled visiting before.

Frank slowly began to go down what appeared to be a rough dirt road crafted within the thick forest. He was unaware of just what kind of world he got himself into.

Soon, he would discover the unearthly wonders that awaited him.

Author's Note

And I'm back.

This is a complete remake of Dead Rising: Off-The-World! It features better grammar and a more detailed portrayal of Frank West himself. Everything planned has underwent major changes. Aaaand TK died. (He couldn't risk it all)

Just a heads-up, this takes place in the Dead Rising 2: Off The Record like Off-The-World did. See you soon.

-MMM-