The faint glow of a lantern beckoned Grendel to the frosted window of Herot Hall. As he peered inside, he was struck by the shimmering blonde locks refracting the golden luminescence of the light's flame. He's heard the tales of such a mortal before, whose beauty is twice of any man and his bravery twice his beauty. This is the hero he had heard of, sent to slay Grendel, the heartless beast. But he wasn't heartless. In fact, his heart began to beat that very moment.
Suddenly, a pair of bright sparkling blue eyes locked onto his. They experience
mamihlapinatapei. Grendel let out a soft gasp. Caught in the rush of infatuation, he hardly noticed the door squeaking open. Rage filled Beowulf's cold stare as he rushed towards the monster, wielding a long steel sword. Grendel moved away, taken aback by the hatefulness in Beowulf's expression. He wished he could look at Beowulf that way, but something deep within him wouldn't let him.
Grendel ducked away from the vicious strikes of the sword. Beowulf slashed and sliced at the space around him. Beowulf showed no signs of relenting. Grendel knew he had to do something. Caught up in the heat of the moment he pounced on Beowulf, tackling him to the ground. Looming over the struggling warrior, Grendel's heart started to beat loudly in his chest, the first time he can recall that happening. Thoughts swirled around in his head, fogging up his mind. He didn't hear the loud grunt that Beowulf gave as he kicked Grendel's legs out from under him and threw him underneath. Panting, Beowulf towered above him, his golden hair coated in a sheen of sweat.
"You've terrorized these people for too long. Watching, lurking in the shadows, ripping apart their family members limb by limb. Well, today is the day that that all ends. Prepare to meet your end!"
He raised his sword high in the air. Grendel braced himself for the end. The thrust of the weapon rippled in the air. Grendel could feel the bitter-sweet taste of death on his tongue. A single tear welled in the corner of his eye. He waited for the inevitable strike, but it never came. Grendel's breath hitched as he realized that the mighty Beowulf was unable to kill him, his only foe. Hesitantly, he peeled open his eyes, meeting the intense gaze of Beowulf. Eyes locked onto each other, they felt the strange tension flowing between them. Something had changed. A twinkle of compassion had crept into the corner of Beowulf's glassy eyes. They stayed there, eyes locked for what seemed like hours. Grendel wetted his lips. Beowulf made a sudden shift down, cutting the tension of the exchange, as he abruptly leapt up and took off running towards the surrounding forest.
Grendel picked himself up off the ground and sadly brushed himself off. His head was spinning. He didn't understand what had happened. He was supposed to be his enemy. Why did he have such strange feelings towards him? All his life he suppressed any emotions he had, being told that he was a monster and monsters don't have feelings. He had been forced into embracing this role, forced into slaughtering innocent people, forced into being fearsome. Well, he had had enough. He wasn't going to let happiness evade him this time. His long unkempt hair swayed behind him as he darted into the forest after Beowulf.
The wind rustled through his long dark fur as he ran faster and faster towards the golden warrior resting in the distance. Leaning back against a pine tree, Beowulf was startled when he noticed the beast standing before him.
"Grendel! What are you doing here?" he asked, gazing at him quizzically.
Grendel leaned in confidently, cradling Beowulf's scruffy face in his hands as he pulled him closer. The intense look in Grendel's eyes made Beowulf fall silent. Beowulf's lips parted slightly in anticipation. Grendel's eyes twinkled as he tentatively pressed his lips to Beowulf's. Deepening the kiss, Beowulf let out a slight moan. Grendel nibbled Beowulf's lower lip and Beowulf shivered. Needing to breathe, Grendel tried to break away from Beowulf, but he only pulled him closer. A sharp burst of pain shattered across Grendel's back as he finally broke away, grunting heavily. He looked up at Beowulf and saw the bloody dagger in his hand. He knew it was all over, yet, he felt a wave of peace fall over him knowing that his last moments were spent in the facade of love. He took a last staggering breath and succumbed to the beckoning song of Death.