Warning: This book contains graphic descriptions of violence, perverse sex and child abuse. For adults only. This was written as a response to reader feedback from my first book Angelic Defenders and Demonic Abusers. It talks about Satanism as a powerful worldwide movement. It talks about the minority of Satanists who practice cannibalism and blood drinking. And it talks about the High-Adept Satanists who are masters of the occult. This book also suggests a connection between Global Satanism and Alien intelligence. Although I am a Christian, I think that persons who believe in other philosophies would also find this book to be of interest. And some Satanists would find my insights to be of interest. Below is a quote from this book. In it, I tell the story of a visit I had as a child with two aristocratic cannibals known as the two sisters. For this story, I gave them the names of Nancy and Bernie. I made this visit to their mansion with a man who had the nickname of the Baron because he behaved like a robber baron. "After the meal thankfully ended, they took us to see their Satanic temple, which they had constructed in their basement. The two sisters took their religion very seriously. So showing us this temple was a big deal for them. And as bizarre as it may sound, in a sense, both the Baron and I felt flattered that they had offered to show it to us. To them, their belief in Satan was very sincere, and to show us their altar was an act of extreme emotional intimacy. Or at least we had thought so when they invited us. I had seen a number of Luciferian altars by then, and sometimes it had been a pleasant experience. Some Luciferians reveal their inner feelings through their altars, and in some cases, they are quite beautiful. On the first floor of the home, there was a sturdy wooden door which led down into the basement. It had a special lock on it. Bernie unlocked it with a key which was hung around her neck. After the door was unlocked, there seemed to be some tension between the Baron and Bernie. The two of them made eye contact and looked at each other intensely. The Baron asked, “Are you inviting us in?” Bernie answered, “You are our guests.” She opened the door. “You first,” she said. “I must insist, you go first,” he replied. Bernie entered the dark stairwell. The Baron followed, and I was behind him. Nancy brought up the rear. Although Bernie trotted quickly down the stairs, the Baron proceeded slowly. I soon discovered why. The entire staircase was painted flat black, as were the walls. There was a tiny overhead light that shined dimly. But the worse problem wasn’t the lighting, the worse problem was the stairs themselves. They were not standard-sized stairs. The depth of each stair was too shallow. And the width of each stair was overly narrow. And there were no handrails. It was as if the stairs had been designed to make you tumble down them. Furthermore, you couldn’t clearly see where you were stepping because of the dim lighting and the blackness. It took concentration to figure out where you should step. And sometimes, the width and depth of the stairs changed. So the Baron’s slow progress down the stairs was filled with tension. Nancy, behind us, kept on chiding us to go faster, but the Baron ignored her. With each thoughtful step that I made, I felt more and more afraid. Before us, about a third of the way down, there was a curtain of red beads. We cautiously pushed through them. Then a bit further down, we faced a second similar curtain of blood-red beads. We pushed through them as well. The beads made a slight rattling sound as they closed behind me. A unique smell rose up out of the basement. It smelt of overly perfumed incense, and there was a faint rotten smell, like that of dead meat that had been left out for too long. I could feel the bile rise in my throat as we proceeded downward. Finally, after we pushed through a third red curtain, we found ourselves in the basement. We were stunned by what we saw."