When we went in the store, it felt off, as if something had changed in the store, but we weren’t sure what it was or where it had come from.

As we shopped, we kept our eyes out for whatever it was that had changed.

Then my son came to me asking me for a band aid. He showed me a small cut on his hand that was bleeding.

So I gave him one, and he put it on his hand.

Then just a few minutes later, he came to me again, this time needing two more band aids for bleeding cuts.
I found two more band aids and gave them to him. Again, he put them on.

I asked him what he was touching, that would cause cuts on his hands, but he said he was looking at clothes, and did not know how or why his hands had started to bleed. He said he came to me for the band aids because he didn’t want to get the clothes all bloody.

We looked at his hands again, and found that just within the time that we’d been talking, there were several more small cuts in both hands that were starting to bleed. The cuts were in the natural creases of the hand.

As I tried in vain to search for more band aids, the Lord told me to get out of the store.

But I kept looking for the band aids, thinking that he would need them anyways, and I was already in the process of searching through out my purse for them.

But again, I heard the voice from within almost shout at me: “Get out!”

So I stopped looking and ushered him outside.

As we were leaving, we looked back into the store, and seen a huge altar sitting there right in the middle of the store.

We had not seen it as we went in, for the store was busy, and several people had been standing in front of it. People had also put stuff on top of the altar, so it was not very noticeable close up.

But from a distance, now that the people had cleared out, one could see it.

It looked like the kind of altar one would find in a massive Roman Catholic church, complete with a large X with a P going through it, and the letters JHS on its side. It looked like it had first been built in the seventies.

That is what our eyes told us. But the spirit in both of us knew without a doubt, that this altar had once been used for satanic sacrifices and ritual works. We guessed that it had been in a Roman Catholic church at one time, and then had been used by a satanic coven. Now the coven no longer wanted it, and so it was now for sale at the second hand store.

My son was trying hard not to cry. He told me that he could sense the death that had come upon the victims that were once offered up and killed upon that altar to satan.

By the time we left that store, my son’s hands were slippery with blood. Many more wrinkles on both the inside palms of his hands had begun to bleed. The band aids wouldn’t even stay on; there was just too much blood.

But just minutes after we left the building, my son’s hands simply stopped bleeding.

A half hour after that, all signs of cuts or bleeding, were gone. No infection had set in. It was as if it had never even happened.