Beowullf Based Narrative

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a narrative that is based off of the literature Beowulf, It follows some of the original story. This is my creation of a back story for Grendel.

Submitted: September 22, 2016

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Submitted: September 22, 2016



My father, mother and I lived in a cave that was swallowed under miles of treacherous harsh water in the middle of the great forest. When I was a young child I was only told that humans did not want us, we were outcasts, not monsters. My father and I would go hunting together and bring it back home to mother, I looked up to my father, he had taught me so much over the few years I knew him. I quickly became a skilled hunter, and knew how to protect myself. We were a happy family, I knew nothing that would make us seem as if we were evil.

When I was about the age of 10, my father and I went out for a hunt as usual, but what we didn't know was that we weren't the only hunters in the forest that day. There were cracking sounds, broken sticks under footsteps. My father looked to me and told me to stay quiet, there was fear in his eyes, I knew something was wrong by the way he gripped my arms. My father left me behind a tree stump, he took off toward the other hunters. I could hear screaming, clawing, metal slicing through the air. Footsteps coming toward me quickly, it was my father panting with blood running down the side of this face. He was carrying a silver sword in one hand and a handful of thick leather in the other. He told me to take the sword and go home, the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. My father knew he wasn't coming home tonight, he knew he would never see his wife again. He hugged me tightly, I could feel the burning tears running down my face as I held on to him for the last time. He gazed down at me and said in a low voice “Go”.

I ran, I ran as fast as my legs would carry. I could hear my mother calling my name “Grendel!” There was a strain in her voice, she knew something had happened. I dragged this armoring sword behind me, it was slowing me down as I could hear steps behind me. I treaded on faster, I was finally approaching the lake, I could see my mother there with desperation in her face. She was looking at me ready to grab me and jump back into the lake, but her gaze left me and met the eyes of my father's maker. Fear turned into anger as the man tossed my father's beaten head to the ground. I took one sorrowful look at my mother, and I knew what was about to happen. She was going to kill this man, he had taken away her one true love and happiness in this cold cruel world. My mother used to tell me that my father was the only one that made her feel less of a monster, she was ultimately going to tear this man limb from limb.

She pounced at the man and latched onto him like a leech, she sank her teeth between his neck and shoulder. Blood was spilling, the man shrieked and spun around like a twister. I stepped back further and further until I realized that I was standing in shallow water, blood was slowly streaming into the miraculous blue tide. I could hear the sound of a bone snapping, the man fell to his knees. He lay face down in the dirt, blood pouring and mixing into the soil. I had never seen mother like this before, I had never seen mother kill before. My mother looked at me, she was disgusted with herself, she felt terrible for letting her only son see what kind of monster she was. She picked up the silver sword and screeched towards the sky, wishing to hold my father one last time. I began to weep as I took in all of my surroundings, then and there, I knew everything had changed.

Over the years my mother took me out during the night, showing me where the corrupted  men would drink and sleep. She taught me how to gorge the throat from the body, and drag a my jagged claws through the face of a man. These men that mother and I hunt, they are the men that took my father. We will not let them get away with killing innocent creatures. Lately though I have only been hunting on my own, mother has stayed in to rest. Everytime I look at my mother I see it in her eyes, she misses my father and she's worried about losing me aswell, but she's getting older and she can't bare to hunt as often as she used to.

I came home one night after a good hunted meal, to our cold empty cave, she looked at me as if she had just spoke to the dead. “Grendel dear, there is a man in Heorot. He’s looking for you, promise me you will be careful out there until he leaves. I can’t lose you too son.”

“I promise mother” I tried to be as brave as I could, but mother seemed to be thinking that out of all the men that I mauled that this single one was a threat. Then again my mother has never warned me about a hunt before.

I set out on the night, the moon was full, and the fog was setting in. I’m making my way to the hall, but for some reason I had an off feeling about this night. It was still out, I crept around the trees about to make my move. I can see the fire burning inside, I can hear the laughter and clinking of beer steins.

“Here we go”, I say to myself as I kick the door in. All freeze. I let out a long loud howl towards the sky and charge towards the nearest man! One quick slice to his abdomen. The splashing sound of organs and intestines hitting the ground fill the hall. I let out a laugh, they can’t stop me. But what’s this? Who is that man coming toward me? No, that can't be the man mother spoke about. It is! He wants to kill me, I can see it in is face, “how dare I rip apart one of his men.” He sees me as a monster, but he doesn’t know what I’ve been through.

I run, I run as fast as my legs can carry. I can hear him coming behind me, he’s faster than I. I’ve seen this before, I’ve felt this all before, but mother won’t be calling my name waiting for me to come home.

“Mother! Ugh!” He’s right on top of me, there’s no point in trying to outrun him. I turn around right before I could get out the door of the hall. I throw a punch, but he throws one back twice as hard. I scream, I can taste the iron blood in my mouth. We’ve locked hands, pushing each other back and forth. Wait, what's he doing? He’s pulling! No, stop this, it hurts! It’s written all over his face, he’s aroused by trying to kill me. I must have the look in my eyes, the same look my father had.

“Ah! No!” I can hear it, tendons ripping, bone cracking, blood dripping, this pain is killing me. My arm; my arm is gone. I need to get home to mother, I need to go. I picked myself up and ran towards the forest to get to the lake. I’m losing too much blood, I need to push harder, run faster. Branches are scraping my face, stepping on sharp broken rocks, it’s becoming too dark to see anymore.

Water. Water is at my feet, just a little further I think. I swam down into the cave, my mother is standing there with a fear stricken face. I can tell the thoughts are scrambling in her head, from about to lose her only will to live, to anger for the man that did this to her son. She walked over and held my face in her hands as I dropped to my knees. I muttered out “I’m sorry” as she began to sobe and hug me. She laid me down on the ground holding me, she stared into my eyes with tears in hers. But all I could focus on was the sword behind my mother's head, and the darkness approaching.

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