IThis was back in 2005? Living in a rental flat in Cheshire about half a mile from a pub situated on a crossroads named 'The Hanging Gate' I had a old wooden cigar box I had been collecting old and foreign coins in since childhood. One Wednsay/Odins day At midnight (for the amience) I took the coins and laid them in a line at the crossroads and waked away. I was barely a dozen steps away when my nose started to bleed, coppery blood running down my face runining my white shirt. I made it home, binned the shirt.
The ritual worked but I think there was a price to pay in blood not coins .
My own crossroads experience.
IThis was back in 2005? Living in a rental flat in Cheshire about half a mile from a pub situated on a crossroads named 'The Hanging Gate' I had a old wooden cigar box I had been collecting old and foreign coins in since childhood. One Wednsay/Odins day At midnight (for the amience) I took the coins and laid them in a line at the crossroads and waked away. I was barely a dozen steps away when my nose started to bleed, coppery blood running down my face runining my white shirt. I made it home, binned the shirt.
The ritual worked but I think there was a price to pay in blood not coins .