They come back every year. I can recall multiple points in my childhood where I heard them honking in the wee hours of the morning, causing calamities that woke me up far earlier than I would’ve preferred. Every single winter they return, but this year has been different.
Geese are terrible people, and they’re actually not even people, which makes them even worse. One core, traumatic memory of being chased down by one as a child and sobbing hysterically was all it took for me to develop a lifelong distrust of the feathery demons. It seems so needlessly cruel to have what is essentially a long-necked chicken have the temperament of a damn lycanthrope. Their beady little black eyes seem like bottomless pits of spite, and the fact they actually have teeth on their tongues is something I don’t think I can ever forgive God for.
My father still lives in my childhood home, but me and my siblings are all moved out. He’s older now and has some difficulties with mobility so I stop by pretty often to help out where I can. Ever since mom passed, he’s been there alone with his faithful Labrador retriever; Brody, and although he greatly values his independence it’s getting more and more difficult for him to live alone as the years go on.
Me and my older brother: Eric routinely switch-off helping him with tasks around the house that may be a risk to him. Typically, it’s things like cleaning out the gutters, trimming tree branches and simple maintenance on his vehicles, mostly just things I’d rather a 73-year-old man not try and do alone.
Last week I went out to help him with some chores. My brother Eric was supposed to meet my there but he got roped in to his kids’ parent-teacher conferences so I met dad alone. It was just past noon when I met dad out at his house. He and I grilled some burgers and chatted about things for a while before we began on the tasks.
A recent snowfall had damaged some of the trees on the back of his property, and so he wanted to chop them down before they fell onto his shed. He and I grabbed some handsaws and an axe and began systemically pruning the aspens.
We soon determined there were about 3 trees total which we needed to remove. I climbed the ladder and began sawing off some of the upper branches as dad steadied it from down below. Things were going well until a sudden familiar and foreboding ruckus emerged in the distance. I lowered the chainsaw and killed the motor as I spied the flock soar overhead and land in the back pasture.
“Damn birds been ruining that back field. More goose shit than grass back there at this point.” Dad spat as he said it, clearly annoyed by the return of the unwelcome visitors.
“You need some scarecrows or something.” I replied.
“I tried that, damn things have no fear of people anymore though so it didn’t do a damn thing.”
I suppose it’s also important to mention that we live in Canada, and the Canadian goose is our national bird. INB4 comments saying how you should shoot them which unfortunately is not an option. Not only because firearms are severely restricted here, but also because killing a Canadian goose can get you hefty fines and potentially land you in prison.
In America, you guys have the bald eagle, which is cool. They are rare, imposing, beautiful and majestic. You remember the day you see one, and maybe even sing the national anthem or something when you do.
Geese are not like that, and I doubt anyone has ever been happy to see one. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve been on my way to work when traffic suddenly just comes to a complete standstill because a few geese decided to casually meander onto the highway. We have made them a protected class, and they know it. The rest of us are lowly peasants when compared to our avian overlords, and Canada remains under the tyranny of the goose forevermore.
“Then there’s the red one.” He spoke it suddenly as though reflecting upon an old foe resurfacing.
“The red one?” Dad nodded and his eyes narrowed on me.
“You’re gonna laugh at me I know, but son, I swear I’ve seen it. A goose as tall as a man, feathers a deep blood red color” He paused and glanced out towards the trees as a gust rolled through the landscape.
“Something ain’t right with it.”
Contrary to dad’s prediction, I didn’t laugh: I didn’t know how to react. I thought he was just messing with me, but there was a deadly serious cadence in his voice. It probably sounds ridiculous to anyone reading, but something about the sincerity in his voice made me take pause.
My father is not a guy that scares easy. Never seen him shed a tear, and never seen him back down from an altercation. A man as stubborn as he is stalwart, and making up tales was never something he seemed particularly good at.
“How often do you see it?”
“Every once in a while… ain’t seen it for some time now, but I know it’s always out there… watching.” He let that ominous phrase just sort of hang in the air unelaborated. It still seemed a bit ridiculous, but clearly he was affected by it.
“You got a slingshot or something?” Dad shook his head down below as he stared contemptuously out at the flock. He didn’t reply, and since it seemed to be genuinely bothering him I decided to do something stupid about it. I climbed down the ladder as he glanced at me side-eyed.
“Where you goin?”
“Birdwatching.” I was already entering the tree line as I called back. A menagerie of branches and leaves split apart as I trudged my way towards them. They all continued peacefully grazing and loitering as I made my approach unseen.
I breached the other side of the tree line and stepped out into the field. The flagrant faction of fowl barely even seemed to notice my arrival. I grabbed a decent sized stick laying on the ground and sauntered out towards them.
“Hey… get outta here!” A few of them turned to look at me, but still seemed woefully unbothered by my display.
“GIT!” I shouted the words at the top of my lungs and began waving the stick back and forth. I was met with a chorus of angered honks as the gaggled fluttered into a frenzy. One by one they leapt into the air and began flying off in various directions.
One of them divebombed directly towards me, but I managed to duck aside as it flew past. Fearing their retaliation, I clutched my stick and prepared myself for battle, but thankfully they continued flying off and resuming their formation in the sky above. Seconds later they were soaring away from the property, hopefully never to return, but I knew I wasn’t that lucky or intimidating.
Once they were beyond the trees, I turned back, but something caught my eye as I turned away. On the ground where they had gathered, something was laying in the muck. I walked towards it, and I froze midstride as the macabre realization struck like thunder.
“Atta boy son, you must be a goose whisperer or something.” Dad chuckled as he and Brody approached from behind me. I just turned back and stared at him, and his expression contorted as he noticed mine.
“What is it?” I just pointed at it. Dad approached gingerly, and as he reached my side he too seemed taken aback.
“Is that what I think it is?” Dad ignored the question and moved in for a closer look. As he knelt down, he grunted and cleared his throat.
“Well, if you think it’s a severed human arm then I think you’re right.”
The two of us hurried back inside his house and dialed 911. The police showed up about an hour later and we escorted them back to where we’d found it. Not long after they had an entire array of workers, technicians and people sectioning off the area. They spent hours combing through the vicinity, and the longer it went on the worse it got.
Dad and I watched as they removed a body bag for the remains we’d found, then another, and another. In total we counted six separate bags of what we assumed were human remains. The initial search area widened to encompass a large chunk of the back field. They didn’t tell us much about it as they worked though, and so the two of us could only speculate as we watched from dad’s porch.
Eventually I was taken down to the police station as a few other cops remained with dad at his house. They interrogated me once we got to the station, and I told them pretty much everything I’ve written here. Obviously, they were skeptical, and I don’t even blame them for eying me suspiciously. Not a whole lot of it made much sense to me either, but I didn’t know what else to say to help them.
They eventually seemed to clear me of any wrongdoing and so took me back to my father’s house. They then took my father to conduct the same interview on him. It was getting late in the day by then, and although I thought about going home, I felt it was better for me to stay there and await dad’s return.
As I waited, I did some more research online. Apparently Geese- despite their aggressive tendencies and fierce attributes are mostly vegetarian. They do eat insects and fish from time to time, but usually just graze on plants. The fact that several of them had blood spackles on their down would seemingly indicate that the group had been eating the arm, and possibly the rest of the remains in the field. As far as I can tell, there’s never been any reports of geese eating humans or even scavenging on their remains.
It was nearly midnight by the time the officers ferried my father back home. He sauntered inside, clearly worn out from the bizarre day. He slumped onto the couch as the lead officer gestured me to join him outside.
“Thank you for your and your father’s cooperation today. I know this is a very odd and worrying situation, but we’re going to get to the bottom of it. Our crew may be out here for awhile while the investigation concludes, but we’ll try our best to stay out of you and your father’s way. Please feel free to call if you discover or learn anything you think we should know.” He held out his card and I nodded back. He and his partner then exited the home and made their way back to the cruiser. The rest of their team seemed to be packing it in for the night as well, so I returned to dad.
He was seated on his weathered living room chair with Brody stationed valiantly at his feet. He sipped from his whiskey glass as I went and sat on the opposing couch.
“Well… can’t say this is how I was expecting today to go.” I spoke with a chuckle and dad nodded back with an affirming grunt.
“You can say that again. Over thirty years I’ve lived on this damn property, and I’ve never seen anything like this happen.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
“Well, I’d sure hope not, geese don’t even usually eat meat apparently.” I prattled off the fact I’d read previous from Google. Dad scoffed as his head slowly swiveled side to side.
“Apparently these ones do.” He glanced silently out the living room window, and towards the back field where the grisly discovery had been made. The two of us sat in silence for a moment as we contemplated the overwhelming day.
We chatted for a few more minutes but soon decided to call it a night as we were both exhausted. Dad told me I could stay the night there and I happily obliged as I was already near unconscious on his living room couch. After wrapping myself in his spare comforter I was out, but it did not last.
The intrusive sounds of aggressive barking stirred me from a deep sleep. Suddenly I felt a cold chill seep into my bones. I stirred from slumber, shivering as a cold chill descended my spine and a fuzzy form began nuzzling against me. It was dark with only the moonlight beaming in from outside the house, but I recognized the barks and blurry outline of Brody beside me.
He began whining and licking my face franticly as my eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. I patted his head and back as I tried getting him to calm down, but he seemed really riled up for some reason. The couch I’d been sleeping on sat below the front window and from my vantage point I couldn’t see the front door. As I sat up, and turned to the side I froze stiff.
The front door was wide open.
With a stark fright I jolted to my feet and backed away, confused and trying desperately to adjust my eyes to the shadows and quell my racing heart. Brody continued whining and barking as he stared out into the dark night.
I found my coat and approached the door, but it showed no signs of forced entry. I could only assume my dad had been the one to open it. On tiptoes I snuck to pier out the door, but found nothing but the empty yard and night sky.
Quickly I rushed down the hall to my father’s room, but as expected he wasn’t in there. I couldn’t imagine what would possibly possess him to venture out in the middle of the night alone, but I knew it wasn’t good. As I ventured back to the front door, I felt a true dread seep into the very cortex of my being. Nothing within me wanted to go out there, but I knew I couldn’t leave my father.
The cold breeze struck my skin like needles as I stepped out and shut the door behind me. Brody was still going ballistic inside especially with the door shut, but I didn’t want him to run off and figured leaving him there was the safer option.
I scanned the area around me but saw no sign of anyone or anything. Dad’s old Chevy sat derelict on his driveway along with my Subaru, both of them untouched aside from a thin layer of snow. I thought about calling out his name, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Back on the side of the house I spied a shovel leaning against the wall and so I took it with me.
We’d gotten a bit of snow as we slept, and in the yard, I spied I clear line of footprints leading out from the door and back around the side of the house. As I followed them my feet crunched in the snow which sounded like the crashing of thunder when contrasted with the silent night. My hairs stood on end and my hands shook wildly as I clutched the shovel tight.
The footprints led directly from the front of the house to the back grove where we’d made the macabre discovery earlier that day. Moments later I reached the tree line, but still didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. My father’s footprints vanished into the trees, and I just hoped he hadn’t wandered too far.
Branches scraped against me as I made my way deeper inside the grove. Still I heard and saw nothing out of the ordinary even as I approached the other side where the sectioned-off field was located. `As I breached the edge of the trees, I spotted something up ahead. It was laying near one of the fresh pits the police had been excavating, and after a few seconds I finally realized what it was.
“Dad? Dad are you okay?” I spoke the words in a shouted whisper as I snuck over towards him. He wasn’t moving, and as I got near him my heart sunk as I beheld his condition. His jacket was shredded all over, like someone had haphazardly slashed at him with a razorblade.
Once at his side I found him scratched up and unconscious, but clearly still alive. As I jostled his shoulder he slowly came around and opened his eyes. Suddenly his eyes sprung wide and he lurched upward as he furiously glanced around the area.
“Dad it’s okay… it’s just me.” He didn’t respond, and despite my protest he hobbled back to his feet as he panted heavily.
“What the hell happened? Why are you out here?”
“It’s here… I saw it.” He then groaned and collapsed back to his knees as his face contorted into an agonized grimace. I then saw that his leg was stained red and torn up pretty bad. He clutched it as he slumped down and I moved to assist him.
“We gotta get out of here son.” As I began trying to hoist him back to his feet, a sudden noise pierced the mute night air. An odd raspy sort of bugling noise. It was a weird sound that I didn’t recognize, but it definitely sounded like some kind of animal had made it.
Dad was glancing around franticly trying to see something, but he wouldn’t say anything. His leg was lacerated, and he couldn’t stand on it anymore so as such I ended up just basically dragging him back towards the tree line.
The morose screech we’d heard previous roared out once more, but this time it sounded like it was coming from above us. As I averted my eyes upward, I saw the fleeting form of a large shadow soar beyond the trees. The leaves on the top swayed from the wind of it passing, and clearly it was big, much bigger than any bird or flying creature I’ve ever seen.
“Shit… it’s coming back.” Dad turned and did what he could to try and hobble to the trees. The two of us continued awkwardly stumbling like a pair of drunken baboons until finally reaching the tree line. The moment we stepped inside it, I heard it descend onto the field.
From the shadows we peered out, seeing a large, bipedal creature towering in the field. It stood tall on long, lanky legs. It’s head was suspended upon an elongated neck, and bulbous black eyes stared unblinking back towards us.
My first thought upon seeing it was that it looked like a damn pterodactyl, but it was even stranger than that. I could scarcely believe what I was seeing, but it looked like an enormous goose. That freak of nature had to have stood at least 6 feet tall, with a wingspan probably double that. It’s body was an eerie crimson color much as dad had claimed, and the moonlight beaming down seemed to give it an almost ethereal presence.
It just stood there staring back at us for a long, tense moment of uncomfortable silence. It’s unblinking obsidian eyes seemed to gleam with a rampant sense of primal hunger. Something about it’s gaze was deeply disturbing. It seemed predatory, and of course everything about the situation seemed to reassert that notion. There was something even more than that though, but I couldn’t quite place it.
Dad and I continued backtracking through the woods as best we were able, trying to keep an eye on the fiend as well as get back to the house quickly. We failed the former in mere minutes as the sight of the bird disappeared behind the foliage of the woods. Dad’s leg was pretty mangled, and although it was causing him obvious pain he continued pushing on as I clutched him by the shoulder.
The sight of the house returned as we broke through the other side of the woods. Things were eerily quiet, with no sign of the feathered thing anywhere. The two of us took a moment to inspect the vicinity as we planned our move. I stepped towards the edge of the trees when dad reached a hand out to stop me.
“It’s still out there… it’s waiting for us to leave the woods.” Dad whispered the words as he slumped back against a tree.
“Well, we have to go out there… your legs still bleeding… you need stiches.” Dad grunted and shook his head.
“Trust me… if that thing catches you in the open it’s not gonna be good.” I just threw my hands up then.
“Dad we have to do something, we can’t just sit here.” I pulled my phone out once more, but of course as expected I had no service. Dad’s house was about five kilometers away from the city, and I never got any cell phone coverage there. Dad didn’t have his cellphone on him either, and as such our options were rather limited.
The two of us took a moment to try and bandage his leg as best we could. I took my belt off and applied a tourniquet on his thigh to hopefully stifle the bleeding, and dad tore off the dangling fabric on his jeans to try and wrap up the wound.
As we worked, we heard the sounds of distant honks approaching. A few minutes later and a flock of geese then descended from the night sky and landed around dad’s house. Once they touched down they fell silent, dispersing throughout the yard as though they were on patrol. There was no sign of the big one, but both of us knew it was still out there.
The chill of the night had become a serious problem by then, and both of us felt the cold gnawing against us relentlessly. My teeth chattered in my mouth, and the materials of my clothing proved simply too thin against the frigid night air. We needed to get inside or get away, lest we face serious risk from hypothermia.
I clutched my shovel tight, as dad grabbed some large sticks and filled our pockets with small rocks. At the last second, I told dad to just wait there as I tried to get back to the house. He protested, but both of us knew that with his wounded leg he would be a sitting duck if we got attacked. I had a better chance of going in alone.
I tiptoed out from the woods as dad watched with baited breath from the trees. The eyes of the flock bore down upon me like an oppressive heat, uncomfortable and foreboding. As I reached the halfway point between the woods and the house the flock erupted into a calamity of anger honks. They began to furiously beat their wings and ascend into the air, and I just booked it to the house.
I reached the front door at the same moment one of the geese reached me. It hovered and pecked angrily at me, tearing my coat with it’s beak and slashing against me with it’s feet. Just in case any Canadian authorities are reading this: I ABSOLUTELY DID NOT HARM ANY GEESE IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM.
Somehow (and through entirely legal means) I managed to open the door and slip inside just as the flock slammed into the wall behind me. Brody was barking wildly and licking at my torso as I took a moment to gather my breath. I took a few more moments to calm him down as the frenzied flock outside seemed to calm down a bit. Suddenly there was a large thud on the roof, and my heart dropped. A low gurgling, sort of droning noise became audible above as the rest of the geese fell into a dead silence.
I knew it was that thing again, and turned my attention to find dad’s phone and the car keys. I managed the latter quite quickly, but the former eluded me. After several minutes I all but abandoned the search and formulated a new plan. As I glanced out the window, I spied dad at the edge of the trees. I knew his situation was growing evermore dire by the moment, and I had to do something radical.
Brody remained at my side, a silent resolve seeming to swirl in his dark brown eyes. I took a moment to pet him, and whisper words of encouragement to the good boy. It almost made me tear up how loyal and ready for battle he appeared to be. He knew his owner was in danger, and he was ready to face the darkness. His unwavering courage inspired me, and I whispered to him.
“You’re a good boy Brody, let’s try not to die.”
As I grasped the door handle, something struck the window beside me. Shattering glass exploded into the living room as a goose flailed into the room. It landed with a thump, but quickly rose and ascended into the air honking and screeching furiously. Brody snarled and lunged at it, causing it to back away.
I figured that was the signal it was time to go, and so I flung open the door and beckoned Brody to follow. Together the two of us rushed from the house and towards dad’s truck in the driveway. A sudden surge of angered honks thundered out behind us, with one bellowing cry that dwarfed them all.
I reached the truck and picked up Brody to usher him inside. The engine roared to life as the geese began accosting the outside of the truck. They seemed to have no regard for their own wellbeing as they body-slammed into the chassis again and again.
I put it into drive and floored it towards the trees. Dad then emerged, staggering out from the woods and towards the passenger door. Before he could reach it though, a scarlet shadow descended from the heavens. It slammed down upon him, wailing and lashing out at him.
Brody and I hopped out the other side and pressed our assault. The red beast had dad in the fetal position down below him. Slashing with it’s talons and biting at his torso. With little other ideas I simply lunged at it, latching my arms around it and trying to bear-hug it away from him. Brody lunged and chomped down on it’s ankle as the beast howled.
It was strong, much stronger than I anticipated. It managed to simply toss me off of it and send me plummeting to the ground. It kicked it’s leg and knocked Brody back as dad managed to regain his footing behind it. It then extended it’s wings out with an angered screech. It’s tone like that of a goose distorted through a megaphone and pitched down several octaves.
I then beheld it’s full, horrific form. The thing’s eyes were haunting, like swirling pools of chemicals glinting in the sun. They were comprised of a multitude of colors which under any other circumstance might even be considered beautiful. They didn’t even look like eyes, and it made me realize this thing was no mere animal.
It towered over me, it’s feathers rippling in the cold breeze. Dad managed to clamber inside the truck behind it as Brody and I faced down the thing. Suddenly a torrent of geese descended upon us, and all semblance of order was lost. It’s hard to describe what even happened in the following moments, but it essentially involved me hardcore dancing my way through the swarming birds. By some miracle both I and Brody managed to enter the truck, thanks in no small part to dad flinging rocks out from the passenger side.
Once all three of us were in I put the truck in drive and gunned it out of there. The red one continued to pursue us down the road, slamming down into the truck 3 separate times. With each hit I swerved and nearly lost control, but somehow managed to maintain the course. Mercifully the beast and it’s cohorts eventually seemed to call off the onslaught, and we all breathed a huge sigh of relief.
I had scratches and cuts all over my body and both dad and Brody were pretty beat up as well. Thankfully, none of us appeared too badly injured, and we managed to reach the hospital a little while later.
Dad and I checked in with Brody accompanying us inside. They of course asked us what had happened as we got into the ICU, but all we could really tell them was that we were attacked by some animals. They of course wanted to know which animals in particular, but we couldn’t bring ourselves to tell them. They wouldn’t have believed us anyways.
They got us disinfected which hurt like hell, and stitched-up not long after. They ran us through the gamete of bloodwork, but thankfully they all came back negative including for rabies which was the primary concern. I was exhausted from the entire event, and fell deep into sleep as the sun began to rise outside.
I awoke a few hours later to find the police chief there awaiting me; the same guy in charge of investigating the grim discovery on dad’s property. He was of course curious about what the hell had happened, but I just laughed. I told him it’d be easier for me to just write it out, and that’s exactly what I’ve done here with this document.
The rest of this was not given to the police, but I wanted to add a few more things. Of course, they are skeptical about mine and my father’s accounts, and of course when they returned to our property the geese were nowhere to be found.
They may have locked us up in the loony bin were it not for the damage to my father’s truck and house, as well as my Subaru being covered in goose shit. That part just made me laugh, and it’s almost like the flock just wanted to send me one last middle finger for escaping their fury. One of the piles of stool was unlike the others though, and they got it into the lab for testing. We’ll see if anything comes of it, but I’m not holding my breath.
As for what the hell happened, that I do not know, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else does either. As mentioned, I’ve never seen any accounts of geese behaving like this, nor have I seen any creature or folklore that seems to match that red one.
There are wives’ tales around here about the so-called thunderbirds, and maybe that’s what it was. I just can’t ignore that unnerving feeling it gave me. Of course it was threatening in the sense that it could kill me, but there was also an underlying element to it. It was intelligent, and it’s odd, multi-colored eyes conveyed that beyond a shadow of a doubt. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know, but I just hope I never see it again.
Honestly, I was kind of annoyed that my dad had ventured out there in the middle of the night alone, and I had to ask him why he’d done it in the first place. His response might have been the most terrifying aspect of all of this.
“I heard someone crying. Sounded like a kid, but when I got out there all I found was that damn bird waiting for me. I think it was making the noise.”
Brody, my father and I are all doing fine now, but are obviously a little rattled from the experience. If anyone has any theories about this event then please feel free to share them. I fucking hate geese, and this event has firmly reinforced that belief for me. If you see them, maybe it’s best to just avoid them altogether. You never know what those feathery bastards are contemplating.