Where to go from here? Acupressure had helped. It had helped quite a bit actually, but he still had a long way to go.

Mitch had a starting point though. Ancient mysticism. If acupressure did anything at all that meant there was information buried somewhere amidst all that religious mumbo-jumbo; information that he needed.

He wasn't concerned with the actual philosophies; he hadn't been raised religiously. His mother died before he was old enough to remember and for as long as he knew him his father was a drunken bastard who was only concerned with working in so far as it kept his liquor shelf full. There had been times where they went hungry so that his father could continue drinking. His father hadn't been abusive, just absent and apathetic and oftentimes incoherent. He had mainly raised himself; which may explain part of his assholery.

Enough emotional bullshit.

There was a new-age type store near his apartment that was still open. He supposed that was as good a place as any to start researching.

***

He was consistently amazed at how people continue to pretend things are business as usual; himself included. He is walking down the street with the paper bag emblazoned with that Egyptian eye symbol thing from the store which made him feel like an epic dickweed. Crystals, statues, special magic(k)al salt; you name the hokey crap you expect in a new-age store, and it was there. This has always been a popular shopping district, and there are still a plethora of people out buying shit like over a billion people haven't died in the last sixteen months.

He gets it to some extent. What can they do about it? They're trying to enjoy the life they know as long as they can.

There's an edge of tension; a hint of fatalism. Will they be alive in a few months to enjoy this? But somehow consumerism remains a potent force. Businesses continue to make, sell and provide things. There are obviously some holes, but overall most of the things that existed before the Tolling; exist now.

It may be because this isn't an apocalypse scenario when you really give it some thought. Sure, a lot of people will die, but in general (if you are not Mitch Conner), you have fifty percent chance to live. Businesses know there will still be people after all of this, still be consumers, so why close the doors? Just ride it out. In 10 years or so they will know where they stand. There may be new products in demand, and some old ones may fall out of favor, but there will still be products to sell. If they are large enough, or lucky enough, the company may survive. Crime rates were up significantly, but a good portion of people seemed determined to go on with life as usual.

He thinks this also must give people a sense of normalcy that prevents a general panic from breaking out. By all rights, people should be freaking the fuck out. But here they are, calm as cows. Buying shit.

Hopefully, the shit he bought while chewing his cud is worthwhile.

***

Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent bullshit.

Ok, maybe not that much. However, he was only able to glean a minimal amount of information that appeared even remotely relevant. He had purchased, in total, twenty-four books on new-age and occult topics. Upon reviewing those, he had eliminated all but three. One dealt with qi and qi meridians. One covered chakras. The last was about elemental ritual magic.

This last one talked a lot about the elemental energies; earth, wind, fire, and water. One thing he found very interesting though was that it had multiple references to higher level energy, called spirit by the text. Could this be the same as the Qi energy and the chakra energy? Those did not mention elements, just universal energies.

He had picked these because they seemed the least concerned with the philosophies, and the most focused on the details of how things should be done, which was what he wanted. Still, the problem is that they all say to do somewhat different things.

The books for both the qi meridians and the chakras are mainly focused on styles of meditation. Both recommend different physical positions and different thought processes. He thinks that there is some overlap between the two because when he looks at the chakra and meridian maps, the chakras seem to be placed at spots that also show a high rate of intersection between meridians.

The ritual magic book talks about communing with your element and circles and athames and salt. That sounds like a lot of work, and he does not have reliable corroboration for it, so it looks like meditation is the place to start.

So he was going to spend the next couple of days sitting around like an idiot with his legs crossed trying to commune with the universe or whatever.

***

His boss had called. They had finally decided to fire him. He didn't care too much. For one, he didn't like this job. For two, not dying was higher on his priority list. For three, he had enough savings that he should be able to get through the next Tolling without becoming desperate.

***

His ankles hurt, his knees hurt, his hips hurt, his ass hurt, his back hurt. Ten hours today he had spent "meditating." he didn't think he was doing it right. There was no oneness with the universe coming to him. No noticeable effect on him.

Maybe it was because his mind kept wandering. Thoughts about his childhood, the few friends he had had that he lost touch with after college. The one girl that was worth remembering. Worries about the future. All that shit that is running through a body's mind subconsciously all the time.

Maybe it was time to try the other stuff.

***

The majority of his living room floor is covered by a circle. According to the book, a simple circle just locked all the surrounding energies in or out wherever they happened to be at the time the circle formed. According to the qi book you needed to absorb qi to improve your meridians' capacity, so he didn't think that cutting off all of the energy was a good idea. Therefore, he had gone with a modified circle he found in the ritual book.

At its base, it was a circle formed from some unprocessed sea salt with a tiny gap left open keeping the circle from being complete. The salt was store-bought, so the "unprocessed" was indubitably questionable, but it was the closest to natural that he could get. Following the book's directions, he had added a few wavey lines that crossed from one side of the circle to the other. At the end of wavey lines, he had put crescents. Within the curve of each of the half-circles was a symbol for one of the elements. This formation was supposed to gather energy and pump it inside of the circle but not let it back out again. The salt is supposed to purify the energy as it passes through. The formation was supposed to be for "imbuing" objects. Whatever that means.

When the formation is ready, he places and "embodiment" of each element. Water for water, dirt from outside for earth, a feather for wind, a lit candle for fire. A diamond ring he had bought, but never given and never returned took the position for spirit.

"Mary Magdalen mounted by a mustang I hope this works."

He hops in the middle of the formation and closes the gap with salt to complete the circle. After throwing the salt back out, he pricks his finger and lets a drop of blood fall onto the circle to activate the whole thing.

An invisible thrum seems to race out from all the lines. More of a slight pressure than an actual sound. He can't quite tell, but the salt may be glowing slightly.

"Fuck yea!" It looks like something is happening now. The pressure just lasted for a second, but the glow seems like it is sticking around.

He sits there for a while... and nothing else happens. He looks around at all of his lines to make sure he didn't accidentally mess something up, but he doesn't see anything. Sure, he's not a master, but there's nothing grossly wrong; no broken lines, embodiments in the wrong position, etcetera.

It took him five hours to get all this mess set up if you count store time and driving time: there is no way he is redoing this. He grits his teeth and sits there for a bit longer.

Still nothing. He checks everything once more, and yet again finds no errors. What the can he do at this point? He's still not willing to give up, so he decides to try meditation again while inside the diagram.

For once his mind doesn't reject what he's trying to do. It doesn't go calm and quiet, but he loses himself in the flow of his thoughts. Time seems to stop having meaning in his perception as his consciousness meanders through the labyrinth of his mind.

After some indeterminate period of time, he feels an odd pressure from that spot behind his navel. He takes note of it, but it doesn't interrupt his meditation.

***

He notices that the pressure has spread out through his body. Curious, he puts more attention on that sensation.He thinks the pressure is following lines that correspond to qi meridians.

***

He notices that the pressure is growing.

***

Now it hurts. Mitch opens his eyes to find a thick mist within the diagram and himself glowing golden. "FUCK!"

He immediately breaks the circle and runs out from the mist, but before he can get away entirely, it suddenly feels like his right index finger gets smashed by an eight-pound sledgehammer. He sprints to the bedroom and slams the door. He rushes over to the dirty clothes on the floor in the corner and takes a towel out which he uses to fill the crack under the door to keep the mist out. Slowly, keeping his eyes nervously on the door, he backs up to the bed and sits down.

His hands are shaking worse than Michael J. Fox on speed. He's still glowing, but he can tell that it's fading now and breathes a sigh of relief.

What in the nine hells was that?