Use Overture to Drive Target
The present.
I quickly turned off my computer, considering I had used the last of my disk space. I started the procedure to shut the machine down. I was still contemplating on going up to my girlfriend's place in case I needed to download something from the net--a song or image--when I heard a noise from the desk in the corner.
There was a drawer that had wheels and kept it in place. I pulled it out, revealing movies, games, CDs, and more. Something was oozing out of the drawer onto the floor...
***
Flashback
1 minute ago.
I had to find out why this zip file was causing all this. I downloaded the file again, but I changed its name to see if the antivirus would catch it. It was simply named ‘info1.exe' . I pressed ‘Save' and clicked the “Run if dangerous” button. I did not know how else to view the file.
***
The present
1 minute later.
I walked out of the room, terrified and a bit nauseated, heading to my girlfriend's door to wait for her, possibly to force her to download music from the net that I already downloaded.
She came out of the room, looking as if she had been crying. Absurd to say, she looked like I felt. Her face was pasty white, her eyes wide and bloodshot, and her clothing was torn. She was hurrying toward me. She collapsed in my arms, sobbing.
“I don't know how to describe it. It was like... like my body was immersed in fire,” she said as we sat on the floor.
“I'm going to take you to the hospital now,” I said, placing one arm around her as I spoke to her. “I got the phone. I'm going to call an ambulance.”
“I can't. I don't have any insurance,” she mumbled, turning away from me and putting her arms around herself.
“Should we go to a neighbor's house?” I asked, when my cell phone vibrated. Accidently, she had hit the messages button. It was the same caller from earlier. I waited to hear what he had to say.
“You don't have insurance?” I asked her. “Don't tell me that you don't have any!”
“I'm not a street urchin,” she said, still not looking at me. “My sister is an American citizen, made in the States... my father was in the business of slicing meat,” she mumbled. She had clearly been crying, for at least the second time that I had seen her, since we had met. She did not look up at me. “He had severe arthritus and moved to Mexico, where he was making a good living, but I didn't want to do that... I wanted to make it here.” After a short pause, she answered the question of what mission she was on in Mexico I had not asked: “And I did a couple of things for them,” she said. “But I was too afraid to come here,” she added. “I know that I can't do that here... not again... not for a long time.”
We got in the car, and she got in the backseat and we drove out of the neighborhood. She did not look out the windows. “I'm sorry,” she said as we left her apartment complex. Before we left, I shut down all the computer's on the block.
“Be jolly,” she said, as if her presence was the only thing keeping me jolly. “I will not let anything happen to you--for now. But you have to help me.”
“I can't let you go alone. That's... that's it.”
***
1 minute later.
I had the file called ‘info1.exe' opened. It was a program that I had never seen before. Its features seemed to be like many other programs, but it followed a different path. ‘info1.exe' was loaded with features to hide the actual file size. It also had a variety of methods of making it hard to know what the path of the actual file was.
It made me think of black markets—the sort of things that I would only see in movies. How many viruses had I actually seen? None, really. Not without the help of my job that was, unfortunately, cracking down the barriers to seeing viruses.
The zip file had no name.
Conclusion: This is a virus.
“It does not even have a name,” I muttered to myself. “It is like this entire affair,” I muttered as my head went blank, seeing the file, “an entire adventure”.
After an hour of staring at the file, I had no idea what else to do. I felt the need to find out what else there was to see about this file. It was not that I was evil.