I held a six-inch knife over a white bowl full of blood. There must have been at least 2 litres of blood in the bowl. It was not human blood. It was blood from a couple of chickens, which had been slaughtered by the wizard. We were together in his hut. He was standing and chanting incantations while I was sitting on a stool opposite him. I was about to commit murder – a paranormal murder.
