Disclaimer: Hmm, very hard to credit these characters to the original author since he/she has been dead for over a millenia. Well, here's to you Mr. Literate Medieval Monk! Cheers!
A/N: Short and sweet, that's what I hope this story is to you. The story is an adaptation of Beowulf from Grendels perspective and/or the goings-ons behind the scenes. Thanks for reading this annoying little interlude. Now, READ ON MACDUFF!
Payment in Full
The room was dim, so dark you could barely see the outline of your own hand, let alone someone else. The only light source was above the bar, which gleamed with grease and other bodily fluids. He saw his employer enter the subterranean pub with a duly nervous expression on his face. He felt for the small human. He really did. Just for his own amusement, he stood and crept silently up behind his per-job-boss, Beowulf. The small human jumped and yelped with surprise. Instant relief melted his startled features.
"Yo, Gren. How ya doin' man?" Beowulf shouted. He moved to embrace the large demon. Grendel looked down at him with a withering glare. Beowulf stopped in his tracks.
" Oh, yeah, forgot. No hugs." He lowered his arms and gestured to the small table in the corner of the bar. They sat. For quite a pregnant moment neither of them spoke.
" B.," Grendel growled through his teeth, " What is it this time?" The tiny human squirmed in his seat, entirely uncomfortable.
" Listen, Gren, I need you to pull a job with me."
" Well, for lack of a better word, DUH, B." He rumbled. " That is the only reason you come to see me."
" Ya see, this one's different, 'cause I need ya full-time on this one, okay?"
" Full-time? What does that mean? A week? Two weeks? C'mon B. stop pulling my leg."
" Gren, you don't have a leg."
" Well I know that, now don't I?" Grendel slapped the dark mass that made up his body. " But I could if I wanted to."
" Sure. Anyway, what I mean by full-time is that I need you for as long as you want free food and a place to stay." Beowulf said simply, as if Grendel would be crazy to not accept the offer. Sure, so what if he lived in some cave at the moment. The rent was cheap. Grendel sat quiet thinking this offer over. He knew Beowulf was up to something, but when wasn't he?
" Why?" questioned Grendel. Beowulf sighed.
" Because I want you to, and I'm gonna pay you well. That should be enough."
" It isn't." Grendel added a searing glare to his statement, making the human fidget.
" Okay, okay, geez. I'm bored, I want to give people something to talk about, and remember that I'm trying to get in line for the throne at home. Here are the details: A manor about 20 leagues from your fine dreary cave. King Hrothgar," Grendel cut him off with a nod of his shadow-mass head.
" Hrothgar, yes, I knew his great-great-great grandfather. Great man." Beowulf sat staring at him for a moment.
" Anyway," he said exaggeratedly. "His men drink and laugh incessantly, and Hrothgar? Complete coward. Wouldn't hurt a fly to save his life."
" And? Where does this leave me?"
" Inside the manor. Scaring the crap out of anyone who comes by, and making sure to look as terrible as possible. See? No work involved really." Beowulf leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and smiled. Grendel grimaced. As much as he wished he could laugh, or smile, he couldn't. He had no face, and any type of laughter came out like a growl. When he saw and heard humans doing easily what he yearned to do, he hated them.
" I swear, if you laugh at your own idea I'll backhand you."
" You don't have a hand," replied Beowulf merrily. He watched as Grendel gathered his shadow-mass into what looked like a very solid hand.
" Soon you won't have a mouth, human." Grendel roared. Beowulf's eyes went wide and a shiver of fear passed down his spine. Immediately his smile turned south in a pinched look of terror. Grendel felt immensely satisfied. He let his tightly controlled shadow-mass go, relieving Beowulf.
" Yes. I'll do it."
" All right! Awesome, Gren. It'll be worth your while. Thanks," he said as he rose. " I suppose I'll send the usual carrier to your pad with the info?"
" Yes." With that the small human left the demon bar. Grendel didn't stay long either, in his own demon way, he was extremely excited.
The next evening, as Grendel sat alone in his dark, dank, and dreary dwelling digesting a novel he had just picked up on the way home, a romance, he heard a noise. Footsteps coming up to his door, then the bleating of a sheep. Not at all surprised by these sounds Grendel rose from his chair and went to his door.
Outside was a fat sheep with a package tied to it's mid-section. Unlike a human, the sheep was completely unafraid of the great demon Grendel. For, it was known in all sheep communities that demons of his kind were not meat eaters at all, they were like sheep themselves, herbivores. Something Grendel had gone to lengths to cover up. If any human knew that, his career would have been ended.
Turning this thought over in his head he untied the package, pushed the sheep out of his dwelling, and returned down to his favorite chair. Inside the package was all he needed to invade the hall the next night. For the rest of the night Grendel poured over the charts of his newest target.
Show time, he thought as he arrived at said manor. For Grendel, timing was everything. If you don't time a scare just right, it won't make any impression at all. He'd wait until they were all asleep. Until then Grendel waited in the woods gritting his proverbial teeth over the sound of laughter and merriment that came from the manor. Hours passed and finally all was quiet.
Grendel crept up to the door to the manor, paused for dramatic effect, and blew down the door. The door landed on at least four men from the sound of their cries. Now the hard part, he thought as he looked around at all the startled faces. He roared so loudly that the walls shook. A huge piece of roof came smashing down killing or injuring at least seven more men. He stepped into the hall looming over the men. About nine or so men got their wits about them and charged Grendels side. He knocked them over with one sweep of his shadow-mass arm. He turned to the remaining ten and growled menacingly. The ten froze for one instant before fleeing the hall. Still in his "monster-mode" he searched the hall for surviving humans. None moved a muscle. Dropping his charade Grendel nearly collapsed. It took a lot of energy to hold himself together like that to perform so magnificently. Mother would be so proud.
As he was directed he took the bodies to his lair and awaited the next night for another performance. This show of "Scare & Clean" went on for over a decade until Grendel got word from Beowulf. Which read:
Gren, old friend (hey that rhymes! kinda). I know we haven't talked for quite a while, but word had finally spread of your terror. Mighty fine job! I wanted to set another phase into action.
I'm coming to the hall tomorrow evening. I'm going to do what I do best, brag about all the things I've done. But then after we've all gone to sleep I'm going to need all of your talent for what I want you to do next. I need you to attack one guy so that I can attack you. Well, not really attack you, but you know what I mean. We have to make it look good, as if I'm really hurting you. Oh, and bring some arm or leg of some demon thingy so that I can say that I cut it off you. You got that? You'd better. I didn't mean that in a " I'm better than you" kind of way, because I know you could rip my head off. So, no offense.
Good luck,
B.
Grendel shook his shadow-mass head in a mixture of humor and astonishment. There was only one word he could use to describe Beowulf. Jackass. The man became more and more like a donkey with every passing year, but Grendel had more important things to think about. He knew that he would need his favorite brain food. He went to the fridge in his lair and grabbed a huge bowl of carrots. Energy and great vision, ahh, carrots, he thought contentedly. Through the night and daylight hours he worked on a plan and ate as much as possible. If he were going to do what he wanted, he'd need a lot of energy.
Night came a lot quicker than usual for Grendel. Usually during the daylight hours he was catching z's in his big comfy stone bed, but not that day. That day he went into town searching for some demon parts. Luckily for him a Grobathane demon had just shed. Grobathane demons shed their limbs every four hundred years. First they turn green, then yellow and covered with boils, then brown, and finally black where they fall off at the joint and re-grow within a half-century. Yes, a lovely thought, but there was one drawback. The limbs stay solid for only 48 hours at the most. Grendel thought for a moment, but then decided that Beowulf would have to deal with it on his own.
When Grendel arrived at the hall all was quiet. Silently he opened the door to the hall. Instead of stepping in Grendel used all of his energy to scatter himself in hundreds of directions. He was a fine mist falling over sleeping men until he found the one he was to attack. He gathered himself back up and went to work doing what he had been doing for twelve years, acting terrifying. Suddenly, without any warning something slammed into his side. His very solid side at the time. Striking back Grendel found that it was his cohort who had hit him. Beowulf still looked like a scared little rabbit, though his face was braver than any other man he had scared recently was. With a gleam in his eye, Grendel roared magnificently and pounced on Beowulf. Beowulf slashed at Grendel, harming him as much a small kitten would, yet the howls of pain he made were more than enough to convince everyone of their fight.
Following Grendels lead, Beowulf cornered the demon and slashed at his "arm". As if by magic a black arm landed on the ground in front of Beowulf. Grendel screamed with pain and tore out of the ruined manor hall. Thinking that he had actually hurt Grendel, Beowulf ran after the demon.
Out of sight, and very near his home Grendel stopped and waited for Beowulf. The thrashing human came loudly out of the reed-filled marsh panic stricken. When he caught sight of Grendel he slowed his pace and breathed a sigh of relief.
" Gren, man, I thought I actually hurt you."
" Aww, isn't that touching." The demon wiped away a fake tear.
" What was that thing that fell off of you?"
" You don't remember writing to me and telling me to get a demon arm or leg?" Realization dawned on the human's face.
" Oh, yeah."
" Only one problem."
" Which is?"
" The arm will dissolve to nothing in approximately ten minutes." Grendel stated. Beowulf looked confused, then relieved, then just plain giddy.
" Great! I can tell them that with your kind all I have to do is kill you and you dissolve. They'll believe anything. Trust me."
" I do." There was a long pause before Grendel spoke again. " So where's my payment?"
" Oh, that. Well, ya know that gigantic strip of land below your mountain?"
" Yeah, what of it?"
" It's farmed by ten farmers and they produce enough vegetables and grain to supply both my country and this one with extra left over. But they have to pay a tax. Vegetables and grain are the only currency. Now they pay that tax to you. Fresh veggies everyday for the rest of your unnatural life."
Grendel was so startled, so overcome with emotion at the thought of such a gift, so shocked at the mention of his secret, that he was actually speechless.
" How do I know?" said Beowulf, anticipating his question. " Never once did I have a sheep not return to my contact. Plus, the only thing that I have ever seen you attack is a bowl of potatoes and onions. Don't worry old friend, your secret is safe with me." With that Beowulf, destroyer of the great beast Grendel, turned and left. The great beast Grendel looked as though he was going to cry.
The End
