This was my two page story for an English class. It's told from the view of Grendel's mother's. Hope you enjoy it! (Oh, and please review with any suggestions. This is just my rough draft.)
I remember that day with haunting clarity. I've been trying to forget ever since it happened. My son dragged himself from Herot beaten and lacking a limb. I'll never stop hearing his pained wails that he screamed as his life was excruciatingly extinguished. He breathed his last breath right in my arms. They murdered my boy just as they murdered his father.
All I ever asked of that merciless godhead was a life for my Grendel, but, as fate has always had it for my kind, his poor father was brutally killed before my son was ever born. What was his crime? His exsistence. He'd never touched a hair on a human in his life. They shed no forgiveness for monsters such as us. By being alive, we offend those petty creatures and their unloving deity.
I have heard the one they call Beowulf is the scum that slaughtered my boy. He is the one that will pay for the pain of my son. Only his blood can atone for my child's death. For now I wait, but when my grieving abates I will massacre the vile villains.
Grendel was deeply troubled by the hatred felt for our kind. I tried to put his mind to rest, but he was always so unsettled. When he was just a youth he would hear the music and yelling pouring from Herot and plead to join in. I never could get him to understand why we couldn't mix with the humans. Their fear of the unknown has always and will always be too great. It broke my heart to see him so dejected.
His first visit to Herot went by unnoticed by humans. He never had any intention to kill. His glee when he returned to me in the abandoned battle hall we called home was bittersweet for me. I begged him to never go to the human dwelling again, but he couldn't stay away. He snuck out several times and observed the creatures from a distance.
It was the first time he killed that soured my son forever. He was found from his hiding place near the mead hall. The humans were apalled. They called him an abomination and attacked him. He was forced to defend himself. After that night he was never the same. He grew bitter and sardonic, killing freely to ease his mind. Those monsters made my boy what he became. Their hatred warped him.
Now I swim in my beautiful waters, trying to temporarily dismiss my troubles. A couple of sea serpents glide by me in a flourish. Their grace distracts me from what lies below on the water floor. The red drifts up to my nose and I realize with horror someone has killed one of my stunning snakes. I spin in search of the culprit.
Through the murky waters my keen eyes land on a figure not one hundred yards from where I float. At once I recognise who it must be. The boastful Beowulf has come to exterminate what remains of my family. My fury is dibilitating but I soon gather enough focus to attack the fiend. I swim to him faster than lighting, thrashing once we meet.
His chain mail prevents me from doing much damage, so I make the split decision to drag him to my home to finish him. He fights with an eagerness that almost surprises me. This human's hatred for me is so unfounded. At the hall we battle until we're both weary. The Geat knocks me to my knees and points a sword at my head. I blink but am still.
"Was it not enough to murder my only son?" I ask realizing my defeat is inevitable. Oddly, I feel no dread for my demise. Without the only ones who ever loved me, I have no purpose. My only regret is that this prince of cowards will have me as a trophy. The acclaimed galiant Geat shows no pity in his wicked eyes as at last, he swings his stolen blade.