Beowulf rewritten from Grendel's POV

I wrote this for my Advanced Placement British Literature class. I received an A on the paper. We were told to rewrite the epic Beowulf from the eyes of Grendel. I wanted to make Grendel the good guy in my version, so here it is... (Please Rate and Review. Thanks!!)


BEOWULF from GRENDEL’S POINT of VIEW
They would enter the dungeon and take a prisoner, sometimes to beat them, sometimes to rape them, and other times to do worse. There were nights they took him to the Arena to fight whatever beast they had captured on their last hunt. Those nights he wished for the sweet release of death, but it would never come. Just as he would feel the last threads of his life slipping away they would kill the animal, tend to his wounds, and throw him back into his musty cell. They never let any of his imprisoned family die. At a younger age he did not understand why but his mother explained it to him.
“Do you remember the story of Cain and Abel?” she asked. When he gave her a questioning look she continued. “Abel was a shepherd and Cain was a farmer and both of them served the Lord, our God. One day they gave an offering to God, and He was pleased with the lamb Abel offered, but God did not like that Cain had offered only fruit. Cain became furious with his brother and killed Abel. As punishment God made it so Cain would always be a homeless wanderer on the earth. Cain was afraid that others would see him on the streets and kill him. To calm his fears the Lord marked Cain’s face so that all who saw him would know that if he were killed seven lives would be taken in revenge. The same goes for all of Cain’s decedents. Our Lord has protected us with the mark of Cain across our faces and Hrothgar’s men know that if they kill any of us He will take revenge on them and their families.”
This knowledge gave him new strength. A strength that would sustain him for his lifetime, a strength that would put him up against unimaginable challenges, a strength that would make his name known around the kingdom and even around the world. That name that sent chills up the spine of those who were hearing it for the first time. That name that caused children to cower in their mother’s arms. That name was Grendel.
* * * * * * * *
He awoke to the sounds of his sister screaming in protest, but there was nothing he could do to stop Hrothgar’s men. She was now of age and they could do with her what they wished. Grendel just turned to his mother as a single tear escaped down her check. She quickly brushed it away, hoping her son had not seen it. They both just tried to go back to sleep, knowing the broken child they would have to comfort in the morning.
* * *
“She’s not back!” his mother screamed, sheer panic in her voice. “Tell me why she’s not back,” she demanded of the guard.
“They took her, many of them took her. And…well, she wouldn’t stop bleeding. The maid tried to stop it but the blood just kept coming and coming,” the guard explained.
Grendel’s mother crumpled into a pile of rags and tears at the news. Those monsters had killed her little girl just so they could have another night of pleasure away from their wives. Grendel wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed. He could feel the rage pulsing through his veins, like molten magma through the earth’s core. They had killed his sister and now he knew what he must do.
* * *
Over the past two weeks Grendel had seethed with the need for vengeance. During the day he took out his anger on the beasts in the arena, killing them too quickly to provide a good show. Then at night he listened to his mother’s sobs. He became even more determined to kill the men who had raped and killed his sister. They had all been down to his mother’s cell many times, to apologize when sober, and then to mock when intoxicated. He had studied and memorized their faces, thus making it easier for him to make his revenge tonight.
It was just after dusk, and he could hear their drunken banter from the hall above him. Grendel shook with fury, the memory of his sister’s death still to fresh in his mind. As he slipped past the inebriated guard he silently thanked God for the stupidity of the other men who had brought his guard far too much mead. They had made it all too easy for him to steal the keys and escape from his prison.
As he crept up the stairs to the Hall of Herot he noticed that most of the noise had died down as many of the men were now passed out like his guard. Even Hrothgar himself was passed out on his throne, his snores mingling with those of his men. Grendel crept around the hall, searching for those five men that had raped his sister. He took his time to be sure that he found and killed the right men, so that innocent blood would not be on his hands.
After fifteen minutes Grendel had found all five men. He carried one unconscious man to the swamp so his dying screams would not awaken the other men. After snapping this man’s neck he went back for the next. By the time he had carried the second man to the same place he had killed the first, dawn’s light was beginning to creep above the horizon. Grendel decided it would be best if he left the second man with the first so he would awaken to the sight of his dead comrade.
The same scene repeated for the next two nights. Grendel slipped the keys from his unconscious guard, killed one rapist, and then carried the next night’s victim to the same place to wake to the sight of their dead friend. On the fourth day his routine was disrupted by the arrival of a great warrior and his men. This man bustled into Herot, boasting of his many great adventures and his inhuman strength and ability to defeat anything that stood in his path. He challenged Hrothgar to bring him his strongest men, saying that none could defeat him. Hrothgar took this challenge, sending many of his best men to their deaths at the hands of this man, Beowulf. After that Hrothgar felt he could waste no more of his good men to feed this warrior’s ego so he went into the dungeons below his hall to bring out the one man he though could stand against Beowulf with some sort of success.
When Grendel heard that he was to fight Beowulf he was glad. The beasts from the arena where hardly a challenge any more, and Grendel longed for a challenge. However, now all he could think of was killing the last two men that had killed his sister. The sun had set many hours ago and his guard was already passed out drunk. Grendel set off to kill the last two men, but when he got to the hall he had trouble finding them. Many of Hrothgar’s men had been moved to make more room for Beowulf’s men.
Finally, Grendel found the two men, sleeping right next to each other. He carried them out and to the swamp to repeat what had almost become ritual to him. He took one of the men in his strong hands and quickly jerked his head, hearing his neck snap and his last breath escape his lips. Then he laid tomorrow night’s victim next to the dead man before washing his hands in the swamp water. Grendel hurried back to his cell before dawn began to break so he could get some sleep, for he was to fight Beowulf at noon.
When Hrothgar found that yet another one of his men had been killed in the night he summoned Beowulf to his side. “Four of my men are dead and no one knows what killed them. I know now that it was not the men that found them, for they too are being killed. There have been tales told of a swamp beast and I fear that those tales may be true. I would like to ask that you stay awake tonight and kill the monster that is dragging them to their deaths,” he requested of Beowulf.
Beowulf accepted the challenge, not thinking of the good he would be doing these generous people, only thinking of another conquest he could add to his list. Then he left to prepare for the battle he would fight at noon. Beowulf had heard from many of the townsfolk that this Grendel had strength that was beyond any human power. Many women and children were too scared to even speak the name of this man he was to fight. Beowulf had never heard of any man carrying this sort of reputation and all he could think of was how great it would be to be victorious over him.
Grendel paced his cell, waiting for the time he could defeat this Beowulf. When he was finally escorted to the arena the adrenaline pumped through his veins in a way he had never felt before. He knew that he must survive this fight in order to kill the last man that had raped his sister.
Beowulf stood tall in the arena, waiting for his first glimpse of his opponent. When Grendel entered the arena Beowulf laughed to himself. This was no extraordinary man, he only looked like a beggar they had picked up off the streets. He will be an easy kill, Beowulf thought to himself.
Then Hrothgar stood to make the announcement that would begin the fight, “These two men will now partake in unarmed combat, but it will not be to the death. Under these special circumstances they will only fight until one of them is knocked unconscious. You may now begin.”
At that, Beowulf lunged at his opponent. He wanted to get this over with quickly to show the townspeople that he could defeat the man they feared so much. Grendel dodged this attack easily and went in for the knock out. The fight lasted for no longer than twenty minutes before Grendel stood as champion over the unconscious Beowulf, his thirst for a challenge still not quenched.
After his easy victory, Grendel was thrown back in his prison, with not so much as a congratulation. Instead of dwelling over that fact he went to bed, conserving the rest of his strength for that night’s final kill. He knew that once he had killed this last man he would be able to sleep soundly, knowing his sister’s death had been avenged.
Beowulf sulked in his room, not knowing what had happened out in the arena that day. There had not been one point during the fight where he even though he would win. From the beginning Grendel had him under his thumb. Beowulf almost thought Grendel had gone easy on him for it did not seem as though the man had put forth more effort than one would put forth to squash a spider.
That night Grendel awoke just after dusk, eager and ready to make his final kill. He slipped past his guard and up to the hall above him. All of the men were already far too full of mead and unconscious. Grendel quickly scanned the mass of sleeping men until he spotted the last man. On his way over to this man Grendel noticed that he wasn’t where he had been for the last few nights. This was very unusual, as the men normally passed out in or near the same areas. He brushed this thought off his back just as he lifted the man onto it. Grendel turned toward the door and made his exit, not noticing the fully conscious warrior that was following him into the swamp.
When Beowulf saw that it was Grendel killing Hrothgar’s men and not some fabled swamp beast he was even more terrified then he had been. He thought that he may have had some chance to kill a monster, but this man was beyond his power. He still followed him out, just in case there was a way he could at least harm him.
Grendel laid the body down on the wet, cold earth glad to be finishing his business tonight. Before he could snap this man’s neck he was struck on the shoulder from behind. He jumped up and turned to see the man he had defeated all too easily that afternoon wielding a great sword. Grendel tried lunge at the man, but his balance threw off his aim and he missed horribly. It was then he looked down to see his arm lying on the ground next to the man he had been about to kill. At that sight he ran.
* * *
Beowulf returned to the Hall of Herot with Grendel’s arm. The story he told them was of a great monster, who took men into the swamp to devour them, purely for fun. He then made up a detailed story of how he had followed the beast to his underwater lair and destroyed him in a fight that lasted all night. That story is the epic Beowulf, which many still read today.