There are two ways to get from Valley One to the dining hall. The first is to follow the sidewalk down and around the corner before heading up the hill. The second is to follow the path of convenience through the wooded area near the dorm and up to the crosswalk. This was the path she often found herself taking, and the one she took to get to lunch today.

 

The main section of campus is all brick and glass, teetering on the edge of antiquity and modern flair. This part of campus, back by the dorms affectionately called "the Valleys" and unaffectionately called "Satan's armpit" when the weather gets hot, was much older. Hidden back away from precious donors, nature was allowed to take over the space. It wasn't uncommon to see deer wandering amongst the trees. There was an odorous green lake, populated by dozens of small fish, speckled turtles, and three large Koi that often prompted students to stop on the bridge and scan the briny surface, seeing what they could spot today. Then, of course, there were the geese. These creatures did not take up permanent residence on campus, but the green nut trees and miles of carefully trimmed grass lawns meant there was plenty of food for these birds and this place made for a good stopping spot in their migratory patterns.

 

She continued down the path to the dining hall, past the wildflower patch that attracted dozens of gorgeous fat bees when the weather had been warmer, when she came upon several of these geese pecking at the ground. As she passed, one of the geese lifted its head, staring up at her with what she could have sworn was malice in its eyes. She tightened her jacket around herself and continued walking. Upon her arrival at the dining hall, she promptly forgot all about the goose until she later, when she walked that same path for dinner that night.

 

There was only one goose on the path now, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it had come closer on purpose. She was struck with the inexplicable conviction that this was the same goose as yesterday. The goose honked at her, and she rushed past it. She fought the urge to glance back and see if the thing was following her.

 

Outside of the dining hall, she ran into her suitemate. She had always been a solitary person, prone to fits of isolation, and so when she had exhausted her resources at Kalamazoo Valley and transferred to Western, she'd chosen a single dorm room. This meant that she had no roommate, but she still had a suitemate to deal with. All in all, it hadn't been bad. She and her suitemate had spoken during move-in, and then once again to figure out the schedule to clean their shared bathroom, but then her suitemate found new friends, better friends, louder friends, if their shared wall was anything to go by. Her suitemate said hello, but breezed past her so quickly that she knew it was only out of courtesy.

 

She stayed in the dining hall until it closed, and walked back to her dorm in relative darkness. She let muscle memory carry her down the old familiar wooded path. Halfway down the path, she heard a deep hissing noise, like a feral cat. She stopped, heart pounding as she fumbled for her phone's flashlight. She flicked it on, and swept the light around her, until it landed on a familiar gray mass in the path. This was all the warning she got before the goose rushed at her, hissing and squawking.

 

She screamed, stumbling backward as the goose flew up towards her, biting her arm. It hurt more than she would have thought, a sharp pinching pain. The goose lunged again, whacking her in the face with its wing, and she stumbled back, falling to the ground. Her hand slid against the muddy ground, and she landed hard on her back. The goose climbed on top of her. She screamed again, trying to fight through the rush of dizziness to push the thing off of her, to get away, to get free-

 

A second pair of hands reached down from above her, pushing the goose off. It landed a few feet away and started hissing again, bobbing its head up and down like it was preparing to charge. That other pair of hands pulled her off the ground, back to the sidewalk. When she regained her bearings, she realized her savior had been her RA. As her mind caught up to her body, she realized that he was asking her if she was alright in an increasingly worried tone. She told him she was okay, though she wasn't sure she was okay. He suggested that she may need to go to urgent care, but she waved him off. 

 

Still, her RA insisted on walking her back to her dorm room. She had bruises forming on her arm where the thing bit her, and across her face in a diagonal that looked vaguely wing-shaped. Her RA fussed over her for a while. He was premed, so he declared she didn't have a concussion, but he was still going to take her to Sindecuse tomorrow morning no matter how much she argued, so she reluctantly agreed.

 

Deciding to go to bed for the night, she shut off her light. She spared a glance out of her window. Her room was on the first floor, looking out towards the wooded area. In the darkness, she could make out a shape in the grass. She shook slightly. She knew what it was.

 

The goose stood outside of the dorm hall entrance that morning when she and her RA left to go to Sindecuse. It glared at her as she exited. She froze, a scream caught in her throat. Her RA didn't seem to notice. While she stood, frozen in fear, the goose started walking towards her, a steady walk like it was stalking her. She rushed to catch up with her RA, and the goose stopped, watching her pass.

 

Once Sindecuse assured her that she'd be fine, her RA walked her back to the dorms. He had to go to class after that, and she was alone again. She emailed her professors, telling them she wouldn't be coming to class. She couldn't leave her dorm on her own. She could hold off for a little while longer. She glanced back out of the window, just to confirm that the goose was still there. As she came into its view, it flew at the window, slamming its feet into the glass. She screamed, jumping back and away from the window.

 

She curled up on her dorm floor, struggling to breathe. It couldn't get her if she wasn't alone, right? It hadn't attacked her when her RA was with her. It couldn't get her if she wasn't alone. She could reach out, talk to people, never walk anywhere alone. The goose wouldn't get her.

 

Her RA walked back to the dorms that night after dinner. He had gone with a few friends from his class right before dinner. He'd gotten a message from one of his residents earlier, the one who'd been attacked, the one he'd walked down to Sindecuse. She'd asked him if he wanted to get dinner, but had backed out once she realized he wasn't going back to the dorm first. He checked his phone and saw he had another message from her: If I leave alone, it will get me. He didn't know what she meant. He hoped she was feeling okay. He decided to  to check on her when he got back in.

 

As they walked, he noticed a loud, blaring noise coming from up the hill. Shortly after, there was the secondary sound as the fire truck came charging up the hill towards Valley One, lights flashing and siren blaring. He and his friends rushed up the hill, trying to see what was happening.

 

The fire blazed violently, visible from even the street. Thick smoke poured out of the dorm, climbing its way up the building. He slipped into his role as RA as he ushered students up the hill. The good news was that most residents were out somewhere, either at dinner or still at class, so not many people were out here now. He scanned the crowd, unsure of what he was looking for until he realized he didn't see it. That resident wasn't among the crowd.

 

He brushed it off. She was probably further up the hill already, or down at dinner. Maybe she'd found someone else to go with. He glanced back at the dorm and watched the firemen start to douse the fire. In the sky over the building, a flock of geese fled, searching the skies for safety somewhere else.