That idiotic king Hrothgar should really put more importance in ensuring his men's safety than the beauty of his kingdom, I think as the cold night breeze caresses my skin.

Pushing the heavy oak door inward, I let the pale light of the moon behind me pour into the grand hall Herot, revealing the forms of young, muscular men underneath their blankets made of animal skins and furs. Immediately, I shudder from the power that rushes through me upon the sight.

Look at them, sleeping like innocent little babes. Clueless, unaware of the fate any one of them may be receiving tonight. I lick my lips. The fate that I myself will bring onto them.

I step inside, not bothering to close the door behind me. No one will be stupid enough to attack me, Grendel the Monster, as they have become accustomed to calling me, from behind.

Placing my hands on the floor, I stalk forward, like a true animal, searching for my prey on this lovely night. All of them look so tasty, so delicious, it's hard to decide.

I settle on a particularly young-looking warrior. He hasn't gone to battle, not even once, I can tell from his face, unmarred by scars and blemishes. His chest rises and falls with each relaxed breath he takes, and I take note that he is only mildly intoxicated from mead, the unmistakable smell of honey invading my nostrils. I lick my lips once more as my mouth waters.

Perfect.

I start with his neck, so he won't be able to scream from the pain. I then take one last look at his face. So beautiful, I think before it, too, starts going down my throat. I devour the rest of his body hurriedly and in no particular order. His blood is sweet, perhaps from the mead he drank earlier, and his flesh is firm and chewy.

As I eat, I think of the way his life ended before he was able to do anything with it. It makes me feel noble in a twisted way. Ending his life now would mean he wouldn't be able to witness the atrocities of battle. I was sparing him from seeing that.

And also, to save him from becoming a monster…

And when it is over, and I'm left to lick the remnants of my kill from my fingers, I turn around and face the rest of the warriors that surround me, still asleep.

I want more.

I move further into the hall, scrutinizing each one of them until I find one that I know will be able to satisfy my hunger. I crawl closer and closer to him until I'm hovering above him, close enough to feel his breath against my face.

Unlike the previous one, this man seems to have fought as many battles as many times that I've been called a monster. He is very good-looking, despite his face being lined with an endless number of scars. He is a lot more muscular than the one I had just eaten, which I know will make for a very fulfilling treat.

I shudder at the thought of eating this man, barely being able to contain my excitement.

I lean down to bite at his neck, the same way as I did with the other one, but I stop and cry out as excruciating pain trails up my arm from my wrist. I glance at the source of the pain and see a rough, calloused hand gripping it.

I look down again into the face of the man beneath me and a shiver of fear runs down my spine as I peer into his piercing, blue eyes.

I try to leap away, but his hand keeps me in place. Slowly, he rises into a sitting position, and further, until he is standing, and I have no choice but to follow his actions. With my free arm, I attempt to hit his face, hoping that my sharp talons will be enough to make him let go, but he grips the hand that comes at him with his own.

My stomach lurches.

Before I realize it, I am screaming. His grip on my fingers tightens and tightens impossibly, until I feel my bones fracture and my flesh go limp from the lack of support. After he crushes my fingers, he lets go of my hand, but I continue to scream.

I try to escape, writhing, wiggling, biting at the hand that still grips my wrist, but he is unaffected and around us, the other men start to awaken. They draw their swords and I am comforted by the sole fact that they cannot harm me with their childish weapons.

They seem to realize that, too, after they gather around us and start to take their turns slashing ineffectively at me. It's a small, short-lived victory as they gaze at each other in confusion when they realize that they can't even touch me.

It's at that time that I feel it again. Pain, unbearable pain, rushing up my arm that this man still has in his hand, and I resume screaming. His strength is insane, and unmatched. I've never met a human such as him. No one has ever made me feel so much pain.

I feel tears run from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks.

In that moment, I don't feel the pain in my wrist anymore because it's no longer there. Blood pours out of my body from where my right arm used to be, and my vision darkens from the sheer amount of it that has been lost. I stagger and stare, wide-eyed, at my arm, no longer a part of myself. It's hanging uselessly, with what used to be my wrist still in the warrior's hand. I take in gulps of air in between my wails, but none of it stays in my lungs.

This is too much. I can't breathe…!

"Monster!" My head snaps up to look at his face, the handsome face I was admiring just a moment ago when I thought I would be feasting on the epitome of a man tonight.

He tosses my arm toward me, and it rolls a bit until it stops at my feet. I nearly faint from the sight.

"Remember this!" He shouts. "Remember the name of the one by whose hand you were slain! I am Beowulf the Bear, warrior from the Land of the Geats!" He pauses before shouting in an even louder voice, "Now, begone, and make sure that none of your kin ever come and wreak terror upon this land again, lest they wish to die by my hand as you did!"

I turn around as fast as I can, which almost makes me fall over, and flee. As I pass between all the warriors to reach the door that is still open, they rejoice and throw insults at me.

"The Monster has been slain!"

"Look at him—running away like a frightened pup!"

Even when I've put a safe distance between me and Herot, I continue to run. As I do, I hear a unanimous chant of the name of the savior of the Danes.

"BEOWULF! BEOWULF! BEOWULF!"

I don't stop until I've reached the fens that are far away from the village, where I can no longer hear their voices cheer for their new hero from a foreign land.

My knees buckle and my body crashes onto the grassy ground beneath me. I feel my blood continuing to flow out, and I can't do anything to stop it. My eyesight flickers and darkens as my wound grows numb. But I can't stop, I simply can't.

If I do…If I do…

Who will protect Mother?

"Mother…" I murmur as I struggle to stand up once more, my left hand acting as tourniquet for the stump of where my right arm used to be. "Mother…"

I have to go back! is the only thought going through my head and, ignoring the pain, I make my way back home.

Upon my return, Mother takes one look at my miserable state and immediately rushes forward to tend to me.

"Grendel, my son!" she cries out, catching me as I let myself fall to the ground. She sits and cradles my head, smoothing my hair back, away from my forehead, damp and sticky with sweat. "Who did this to you?"

"Beowulf…the Bear…" I whisper back before my eyesight flickers once again and I black out.

The next few days are spent in agony and fighting a losing battle. Mother discovered a new plant of the lake that numbs pain in the entire body and she lets me drink a solution made from this every time she can make it.

At first, I still had hope. I hoped that I would survive this and it would hopefully help me change myself for the better, to revert myself back into a human being. But…it obviously wasn't going to be the case.

Where is the justice in all this, my Lord?

With each day that passes, I'm getting weaker and weaker, and I can now barely stay awake for more than a few minutes. I sleep the day away often and wake up only due to the pain-numbing medicine reaching the end of its effects.

As the time of my staying awake shortens, I realize that I am nearing the end of my life.

I use these short moments to tell Mother things I haven't told her before, both deep and shallow.

"Mother…" I tell her. "When I die…please don't…don't go after him…"

She squeezes my hand to indicate that she knows who I'm talking about, but she remains silent.

"I don't…want you to…get hurt. I want you…to live peacefully…like what you've…always told me." I grimace. "I'm sorry, Mother…I'm sorry for…not listening to you…If I did…I wouldn't be in this situation…"

"Shhh, be quiet now, my dear Grendel…" she answers and uses her hand to put my eyelids down. "You must rest now," she says before singing that same lullaby from before, the one she's sung to me since I was a child.

Her voice starts to fade away, and I can feel myself dying. Vaguely, I wonder if I will be raised up to Heaven or sentenced to Hell. My heart quakes when I realize that I'll probably be spending eternal life in the inferno with Satan.

It's a price I have to pay for everything I have done.

Now, all I will have to do is wait for the other demons of this world. Hrothgar, Beowulf, Hergar, all the people I have killed…I will be seeing them in the underworld soon enough.

The only people I hope to never meet while I'm down there are Mother and Father. I became this for them, I became a monster for them so that they wouldn't have to do it themselves…If they do end up in Hell with me, all my efforts will have been for nothing…

Her song finally finishes, and softly, so softly, she kisses me on my forehead. I feel tears drip onto my face, and she says, "Fret not, my son, for I, your mother, will avenge your death…"

To have her do that is to have her die and go to Hell, I know it well, and my heart sinks.

Where is the justice in all of this, my Lord?

AUTHOR'S [MAJOR MAJOR] CHENES:

1. Big thank you to Bela, who made the summary of this story(I suck at making those LOL)

2. Hahaha, this is actually very funny. XD You see, I already had this idea milling around in my head for quite some time. Then we suddenly get this project in English class, see, to dramatize the three battles of Beowulf. By some strange stroke of luck, my group got the first battle (YAY!), so I was motivated to finish this story because, well, a whole group of people were depending on me...XD In the end, I wound up playing Grendel since I knew the story the best. 8| AND THEN EXTREMELY AWKWARD MOMENTS WITH BEOWULF HAPPENED ON-STAGE. (Hi, Bagbag :D)

3. HUMONGOUS THANK YOU TO ZARA. Dude, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made this in the first place. :D (It all started in Grade 5... :P) BTW, Zara made the drawing that inspired all of this. It's here in my livejournal (remove the spaces): http : / ileikeggz2 . livejournal . com / 10587 . html

4. If you want to read the private version (the last part-INVOLVING BEOWULF-is different...IYKWIM), PM me. :D Either here or at my LJ account.

5. Thank you so much for reading! ^^ Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it~~ Please leave me a review because that makes me warm and fluffy on the inside~~