The campus is mostly empty over the summer, except for the staff and faculty, of course, and those unlucky (lucky?) students either doing work study or taking the oft-rumored summer courses that are never actually seen in the catalogue. Summers are a time for going home. A time for rest, recovery, for remembering who you are before the long haul of the next year. 

Summer means fewer RA’s, as they go home like other students — or for the new ones to go off campus for their own orientation and training. Those RAs that stay don’t take classes. Collecting lost and Taken students starts early, they need the time to prepare.

The dorms are eerie and quiet, and those in them either can’t leave, foolishly don’t believe, or stick together. Safety in numbers may be a lie, but it’s a comforting one. The students that seemed unphased are those of the Forbidden Major, they continued as if summer was just another semester, or a continuation of the previous one. Maybe it is. Most of the classes are theirs. Don’t look too closely, and learn when it’s safe to look over your shoulder.

Once there was a summer camp. The RAs don’t speak of it, too many were late for the beginning of fall semester. The children were all recovered, but the price was high. Some of the faculty involved in organizing the camp went missing and not all of them came back. Don’t mention children to them. If you were one of the children, keep that to yourself and avoid the faculty’s vacant stares as you walk past. They always knew you’d return. Never forget your salt and iron, the Elsewhere remembers you, too.