Susan sat down at her terminal. There was only one chance in the world, and it all depended on whether or not the IT people at the head office in Chicago had blocked www.revelationsofglaakiunedited.com.

“We’ll see who the wuss is, Miss Anderson!” slurped a gurgling wet voice that was either inhuman or, perhaps, the sound someone might make while trying to gargle clam chowder and threaten a coworker at the same time. Carol screamed in response, an agonized scream that kept keening even after the brutal wet thwack of her decapitation. Chewing and snurgling noises could be heard from the adjacent cubicle, and still the doomed wail went on and on and on, echoing through unhallowed dimensions beyond space and time, etc.

There it was! Last week they’d blocked www.liberivonis.org as “vaguely pornographic”; if revelations had been blocked, she would have been reduced to using the version of the Necronomicon at Project Gutenberg, which unfortunately was full of typos.

She clicked on the link for volume seven.