Where's Grendel?

When my son mentioned that he was going to take a trip to Herot, I thought nothing of it. He has done it plenty of times before. He was going to go and feed off of the new flesh that stayed there. But, this time it’s different, he hasn’t returned. I’m getting a little worried; he is usually never gone this long. My son means the world to me. I really hope nothing bad has happened. I just seem to have this bad feeling, call it a mother’s tuition, I don’t know. I am contemplating on whether I want to visit Herot and see what the deal is. Grendel is my baby, he is my world. I love him dearly. If I find out that anyone hurt Grendel, I will kill them.

The Feast for a Murderer!

What is this I am seeing?  I can’t believe this! Beowulf does not deserve a banquet. He deserves to be tortured and then killed. He brought upon grief and pain to my people and I. Grendel was my son, and Beowulf should not get the privilege of a delectable feast, for murder! This does not make sense. If it was up to me, I would have them all as food for my people. This feast is unacceptable in my eyes. I hope that Beowulf has the nerve to come to my swamp lands where I rule. That will be the night that Beowulf is defeated. That scene is like a trophy upon my eyes. I will ruin Beowulf and anyone who has enough stupidity to try to defeat me. Beowulf will not be able to kill me as easily as he did my son. He is an amateur and knows nothing about the power and strength that I withhold. His wimpy muscles are nothing compared to mine. Well, this ought to be fun. Or maybe, I shall go to Herot were him and his warriors are staying, so that I can get my feed for the night. When one of his warriors is gone, that will definitely pull Beowulf toward the lake where I rule.

Seeking Revenge!

I was in a frenzy of grief and rage, seeking revenge for my son’s death. As the warriors slept in the mead-hall, I crept upon them and took one of the men. I guess I made too much noise because they all awoke. As soon they woke up, they came running towards me with their swords. When I saw them coming towards me, I fled, taking my victim and Grendel’s arm with me. You know, now that I think about it, I do not recall seeing Beowulf in the mead-hall. That was a good thing because I hate Beowulf! First, he killed my son and then is still proceeding to come for me. Him and his warriors will be DONE I tell you, DONE! His powers are nothing compared to mine! Oh, ha! His sword can’t even cut me because it is blessed by God and I am evil! It can’t be used with anger or hatred. This is exactly what I need! If he comes to the seas where I rule, I shall kill him and make him suffer as he did my son. I will not have this. Beowulf can’t kill me; he is silly if he thinks so. He may be something of a non-human but I am not human. I am a monster that he should fear! He will fear me when I am done with him, just wait and see.

The Day I Was Defeated...

As Beowulf swam downward toward the bottom of the lake, I sensed his approach. I jumped for him. Then tried to pierce my claws into his flesh, but his armor prevented me from crushing him to death. All of my anger toward Beowulf was balled up inside, and out of nowhere exploded. I drug Beowulf to my court, and let a group of sea-monsters claw and bite at him. It was a wonderful site to see! Beowulf tried to swing his sword, which was lent to him by Unferth, but it would not penetrate my skin. Because of the failed attempt, he tried to fight me with his bare hands. Ha! He could never beat me with his bare hands, no living creature can. I am too powerful! Just as I think that I have him beat, he notices my sword upon the wall.  Beowulf reached for my sword and is granted access by his strength. He then swings it in a powerful arc and just like that, I was gone; just sent here to Hell. I knew I could have defeated him. I believed that his powers and strength were nothing compared to mine. He is a warrior like no other and deserved to be killed the day of our battle. He will ruin our land and I cannot believe I allowed this to happen!

Burning in Hell!

I don’t see how this could've happened, because of this ignorant Beowulf I am burning in Hell! He was so strong. I didn’t think he would be able to defeat my son and definitely not me! I am glad he got what he deserved. My son and I were fine with feeding off of the fresh flesh that stayed at Herot. We were just getting what we needed to survive. Beowulf is a warrior that I have never seen in my years of living and I am glad that he is gone. He sliced my sons arm off, and then comes for me. The way he killed me was with my own sword. I don’t know how I let that happen. I don’t even understand how he was able to pick up my sword. That sword was blessed by giants and no man should've been able to do so much as pick it up. That Beowulf seemed to be something of a non-human. Beowulf, somehow, was able to remove the mounted sword and as I dug my razor sharp claws in to his flesh, out of nowhere I get an atrocious pain, and in just the snap of my fingers, I am gone. My head just sliced away with my very own sword.  Now I am here just burning! I know I am evil but the non-stop burning sensation is horrendous. From what I have seen down here in Hell, I am happy but also angry. Beowulf is gone but I wanted to be the one to make him suffer like he did me!

Picture:

Howe, John. "Beowulf Battles Grendels Mother." www.John_Howe.com. N.p., 2006. Web. 24 Oct 2010. <http://www.john-howe.com/portfolio/gallery/details.php?image_id=3636>.