The Transformation of Frank West: A Tale of Identity and Vulnerability

Frank West, the protagonist of the 2006 game Dead Rising, was an adventurous, hardened photojournalist, not a stranger to perilous situations. He was clad in an amalgamation of clothes that mapped out parts of his jaunts - a disliked green sweater vest that snugly fit over his rolled-up white shirt sleeves. Decked with his iconic flat-top hairstyle which was fitly trimmed, Frank preferred comfort over fashion, choosing dark brown slacks that hung loosely around his brawny legs. An earthy, worn-out pair of shoes carried him through his journey of survival, offering him stability when facing the ongoing zombie menace. Isabela Keyes, on the other hand, wore her femininity with pride and practicality all in the same stride. A smart, white shirt tucked neatly into her black denim shorts outlined her lithe physique. Her ensemble was finished with a pair of low-heeled sandals that seemed so out of place amidst the chaos, yet complimented her audacious spirit perfectly. Her raven black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her expressive face attractively, and her nails, painted in a similar shade, matched her dark earrings that swung like pendulums with each movement. A moment came when, out of desperation or perhaps an unsettling desire to play God, Isabela decided to rob Frank of his rough-and-ready strength, not by killing him, but by reshaping him in her image. Hidden in her past was a thorough knowledge of biotechnology, a secret weapon that she utilized in a syringe, planning to inject Frank when he least suspected it. Unaware of the transformation that loomed over him, Frank was immersed in a bitter fight with a horde of zombies, mowing them down with his trusted baseball bat. Amidst the chaos, Isabela saw her chance, crept up behind him, and swiftly jabbed the syringe into his neck. Immediately, his strength began to wane, his grip slackened and he fell. As the world whirred and blurred around him, his consciousness slipped away. When Frank awoke, he felt odd, strange, and disoriented. The first thing he noticed was the airy white shirt on his body and black shorts that felt foreign to his touch. His own body felt different, slimmer, and softer. The big revelation though, was looking down at his feet to see the glint of the sandals that bore a striking resemblance to those that Isabela wore. A gasp escaped his mouth, the alarming sound of his world turning upside down echoed in the alleyway as a horde of zombies lurched closer. Scared and vulnerable, his hands frantically searched for his baseball bat, his camera, his crowbar. Nothing. His strength had disappeared, and his senses dulled. His heart pounded like a drum, beating a haunting melody of fear and helplessness. He stumbled, unfamiliar with the new footwear and cursed under his breath. A surge of determination channelled through as he stumbled away from the advancing hoard. Staring at his changed form, he gritted his teeth and clenched his hands, Isabela's nail polish flashing ominously. He pulled strands of now long, black hair out of his face, squeezed his eyes shut tightly, attempting to comprehend his altered reality. Opening his mouth, Italian lines of Spanish fell out with unexpected ease: "¿Qué me hizo Isabela?" His usual gruff voice was gone, replaced by a softer, thicker accent mimicking Isabela's. The eerie realization dawned on him. He was no longer Frank West but was, in every way, a replica of Isabela Keyes. The transformation was jarring, frightening, and irrevocably permanent.