For days now, Brave Beowulf had searched tirelessly for this monster's lair, but his search had proved futile; this creature, whatever it was, was much cleverer than any of his precedents.

After another ever-lasting day of turning every rock of the kingdom in search for this ravenous beast, Beowulf, with a heavy heart and chagrin-bowed head, returned to his castle. The castle was a puissant example of royalty; however, although commanding, the castle possessed a feeling of welcome and glee. The castle doors opened, and the exhausted king emerged, eyes set on the ground. As he crossed the grounds of his estate, the servants bade him good-night, to which he only nodded.

At last he reached the great hall, desiring to ponder over the whereabouts of the clever sleazoid. The great hall was dimly illuminated by a small number of candles, so Beowulf's vision was blurred; however, his pensive eyes caught sight of a moving shadow. "Must be my imagination" he thought out loud, but just as he uttered these words, the hall became alight as if by magic, and there, seated on Beowulf's throne, was the great monster that haunted the kingdom. His composition was truly grotesque; half his body a basilisk's, half a man's, with gruesome dark skin, like that of a chameleon, except that the monster's secreted a malodorous, sap-like substance.

"At lasssssst we meet, Brave King." The monster said in a hissing, guttural voice. "You have searched for me, and have not found me. My lowly existence has fulfilled its purpose. I have outwitted the Great Beowulf!" A strange distortion of a smile ran through his features, revealing yellowed teeth, sharper than nails.

"What want you here, loathsome monster!" Boomed Beowulf, drawing his sword.

"How many times have I been called that! Always hated, always haunted! I will tell you why I slithered to your hall. I come here in search of death!"

Beowulf was struck. This villain he had so tirelessly searched for to slay now showed himself in his own castle, broken-hearted and tattered-spirited.

"Beast! You lavished my kingdom and soiled my land with blood, and yet I cannot harden my heart to slay you!"

"Fool!" Exclaimed the monster in a commanding voice. "You search for me far and wide, and now I present myself before you, and your sword cowers from my heart!"

"Your heartache arises my pity." Said the noble Beowulf.

"I slew your men, ate their flesh, and left their bones to rot!"

"I ignore that not, wretched creature! But my heart pities you; I cannot bring myself to end a broken heart's beating. Go on your way, suffer in your grief, which is greater punishment than anything I could do."

"Imbecile! Poor excuse for king! Someone's blood shall run tonight!" Roared the beast. In an instant, the monster, at a speed that rivaled the lightning's', launched in a murderous attack at Beowulf, eyes gleaming with ravenous rage.

Blood trickled on the floor. Beowulf's eyes were wide with awe and horror. Instinctively he drew his sword when the monster attacked, so quickly he himself was unaware of the action. His sword had pierced right through the monster's heart.

"Th–ank… you" Attempted to utter the monster, as he drew his last breath, his face distorted in that same awkward smile. When these words reached Beowulf, he fell to his knees, and wept in his lonesome hall.