If it weren't for the light of the five candles, the basement of Lambda Epsilon Roh chapter house would've been pitch black. Thanks to those candles, however, there was just enough light for Brendan Folly to see exactly what he was doing.  With a final broad stroke of his arm, he finished drawing a chalk outlined diagram on the cold cement floor. Brendan pocketed the chalk and took a moment to look over what he had created.<br/><br/>He now stood in the middle of a large circle. Inside, five lines met with each other to form a pentagon - each corner just touching the circle's edge next to one of the candles. In the pentagon's center an eye was drawn. It was within the pupil of this eye that Brendan stood.<br/><br/>All along the inside of the pentagon - outside of this eye - words of an ancient language were written. The pale american boy stood holding a book and glancing back and forth between the illustration on its pages and the words at his feet.  He grinned at his work and turned to the next page. "That's it! It should all be ready to go." he said aloud in a boyish, almost nasaly voice.<br/><br/>Then, peering down at the writing on the next page, he cleared his throat and in a deliberate, measured cadence he began to speak the words in the old tome. "Oh Hamarash Golyanth Hereskamfil, Horamat Skadarvian. Sheyalbum vellorandil ygsralling ashigdallar. Shebullim... yorgzgorath - RITH! Ongallaharan.  Oh Shallat Horrendan TU!" At the utterance of these final words, he had felt a queasy sensation pass over him. His vision blurred for a moment, and it may had been a trick of his imagination but for that brief moment it had seemed that the candlelight had taken a greenish hue.<br/><br/>But with his vision now clear, the candles still looked normal. It was then that he realized that the verdant tint wasn't from the candles, it seemed that the chalk on the floor itself had taken on a greenish, luminscent quality. All around him - and almost seemingly from in his mind - there was a sound. Almost inaudible...<br/><br/>He waited... His senses pricked up, his anticipation nearly overflowing. The slight green glow of the chalk faded and then - in the still, quiet darkness of the basement, there was.....<br/><br/>Nothing.<br/><br/>Brendan waited... Minutes passed, his mouth dry, his hands unconsciously fidgeting. And then ... there was still nothing.<br/><br/>"Dammit! This can't be right." He thumbed through the pages and looked over his work. - Everything was inscribed correctly. Brendan drew and released a deep sigh. "Well, that was a rather ... impressive waste of time." He groused. He looked down at the diagram on the floor with a pout, then cocked an eyebrow. Was it just his imagination? Did the chalk<em>really</em>glow green? Then again... nothing happened. Certainly not what was<em>supposed </em>to have happened.<br/><br/>"Well... I guess I just... I don't know." He said. He blew out and collected all the candles except for one, which he used to find his way over to the light switch. The fluorescent cieling lamp flickered to life as he picked up a push broom. Making quick work cleaning up the diagram he had worked over an hour to create, he retired back upstairs. His stomach was growling and his thoughts went to the last three pieces of cold pizza in the fridge....