Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from the comic series Grendel, they all belong to Matt Wagner and his various co-creators. Also, this fic has violent content, and is not intended for the faint of heart.
Grendel: The Devil's in the Details
"Grendel," Professor Andi Thompson said, her long black hair shimmering and brown eyes flashing as she gestured, "has left humanity and become mythology."
There was a murmur in the lecture hall as the students watched their teacher and the floating holographic images of the Grendels of the last hundred years, soon focusing on the two most famous, of course. The legendary Hunter Rose, the first known Grendel and his eventual successor, Christine Spar stood back to back in the display, both dressed in the iconic black and white costumes and eerily designed black hoods with the white slashed eyes.
"In the hundred years since the first appearance of Grendel the word has evolved from a monster in a story," Andi said as she began to pace, "to a concept of evil, a personification of the devil himself." A soft chuckle, "There's even a religious sect that believes Rose was the anti-Christ himself."A hand was raised and she nodded, "Yes, Mr. Caniff?"
"There are stories of a new Grendel," Caniff said, his red hair fluttering a bit as the slim young man smiled slightly...
Andi cut him off with a wry smile as she said, "There are ALWAYS stories of a new Grendel. It seems to be the nature of the beast, I think."
Another student raised her hand and rose, her earrings glinting like blades. "What do you think of the modern Grendel cult?" she asked.
"Dana, thank you for bringing that up," Andi nodded. She looked across the hall at her students, "The cult engages in random, fetishist violence in the hope of emulating Grendel, but you must remember that Hunter Rose was a man of precise aggression." A flash of smile, "I doubt he'd approve."
"Maybe," Dana smiled as she sat down once more. "I'm going out tonight to look for them," she added, "I invite anyone who wants to come along."
"That's not terribly wise..." A soft chime reminded Andi that the lecture was ending soon and she briskly switched tracks, "All right, for next session please review Christine Spar's Devil By The Deed, as well as the possibly fictional volumes written by Albert Wiggins, we'll be discussing them both."
With that the holographic interface shut down, and Andi found herself alone in her office once more as the class of students scattered across the state returned to their work in one form or another. She returned to her desk and sat down with a sigh, looking with mixed emotions at the papers and materials covering the desk.
As a sociologist the usual texts covered her desk, but there were other things too. Spar's Devil by the Deed held a prominent place, as well as several other Grendel related works with lurid covers and trashy descriptions. Her own work, The Devil Within, on Grendel's long lasting cultural influence was off to one side, beneath the unique paperweight replica she had of Grendel's weapon, the top of the fork spear.
"No," Andi picked up a report on the latest random attack by the Grendels and murmured to herself, "Hunter would not approve..."
Andi couldn't say when her fascination with Grendel had begun, how far back it had gone. At the very least she had been a young girl when she had seen the paintings by Wagner, the sleek form and shining blade against the night. The poetic beauty, combined with deadly intent, drew her in irresistibly.
"Such crude and ungentlemanly behavior," Andi murmured as she picked up the replica of the fork, "shall not be tolerated." With a twist the deadly blades came free from the base as she stalked across the apartment, taking down a glossy black staff that leaned against the wall. With easy grace she screwed the top onto the staff, re-creating a deadly weapon from the past.
The sterile apartment, like many others in the city, had a basic couch chair combo and a bedroom just beyond. With easy grace Andi stripped, dropping pants on the floor, casting her shirt aside and padding silently into the bedroom.
Andi picked up the costume off the bed, drawing the black bodysuit over her body. Black pants and shirt hugged like a second skin, white gloves and boots gleaming in the dim light of the mostly dark apartment. Finally she tied her hair back and slid on the hood, concealing her face in darkness, only two eerie white slashes down her face marking her.
"It's time," Grendel murmured. Dana being out in the summer night with the false Grendels stirred a faint vestige of responsibility in her. The girl, no matter how foolish she might be, was her student after all.
With a new purpose Grendel stalked across the apartment, opening up the window to her patio and stepping out into the night air. The city stretched out before her, smog and mist touching the air of San Francisco even as artificial light lit up the darkness. She leapt with daring down on to the lamppost nearby then to the street, bouncing up to race into the shadows.
Grendel silently ran down darkened streets, mentally plotting out where she had seen reports on where the false Grendels had struck. Rage simmered beneath her outward calm, not so much at the innocents being harmed as the pure lack of elegance the cultists were showing. It was far too easy for a mob to beat a man to death... using a blade like the one she used required skill.
A scream rang out but Grendel didn't even slow down, jumping over a parked car. She didn't recognize the voice, and more importantly there were other things she needed to do that night. The fearful cries cut off with a wet gurgle and Grendel smiled slightly, wondering what fate had come to the victim.
The Warrens were a bad part of town, devastated by the last great quake and largely abandoned. With feline grace Grendel walked the run down streets, feeling eyes on her as she searched the night.
"Little Grendel," a voice called out mockingly, "come to play?"
Grendel spun her staff, feeling it's weight and near perfect balance but otherwise remaining silent, ghost like in the dim light. 'Just ahead of me,' she thought, covertly bracing herself for the coming assault.
With a bestial cry the man burst from the darkness, his clothes ragged and filthy, beard unkept and foul. "I won't let you take any more of us!" he yelled, wildly swinging a rough wooden club at her head.
Swiftly Grendel ducked as she struck, driving the end of her staff into his belly. Then she swung a fist, bloodying his nose as she sent him staggering back. Her blades gleamed as she said coldly, "I'm not here to harm you."
He spat blood, shaking his head, "You could have fooled me."
"That was to get your attention," Grendel gave a deadly purr.
"What do you want?" he asked, eyes showing honest fear.
"The children playing at Grendel," she said softly, "where are they?"
"You're not with them...?" he started, then trailed off. Looking at her he nodded slightly, "No, it's not a game for you, is it?"
Grendel felt a flash of annoyance. "Where?" she repeated.
He gulped, "They have a den deeper in the Warrens. They're hunting later tonight, too..."
"Good," Grendel answered before swinging her blade around and swiftly driving it into his guts with a wet noise.
He gurgled a bit then forced out, "Why...?"
Grendel pulled the gleaming blades free, blood gushing black in the dim light. "O don't want my surprise spoiled," she said as she strode off deeper into the ruins.
Grendel wasn't a tracker, but oddly she found herself moving with surety towards the den. Maybe it was some primal link between Grendels, maybe it was just that she could guess what they were thinking of, but with ease and a bit of time she found herself crouching on a rooftop, looking down at a bonfire and men and women dancing wildly.
'Grendel is solitary,' she shook her head, 'have these fools learned nothing?'
They wore improvised Grendel masks of different kinds, some complete hoods while others only had a band of black cloth across their eyes. Their clothes were mostly simple street wear, not fitting for a Grendel, and colored black in a almost commonplace sort of way.
With a surge of black rage Grendel rose, standing there until the children saw her, then with feline grace leapt down onto a fire escape then down to the street in front of them. She stalked towards them, her weapon held at the ready as they watched her.
"Grendel," one boy breathed out, looking barely seventeen. Soon all of them began to chant it as they look on with awe.
'You aren't even worthy to say the name,' Grendel thought as she moved with sudden viciousness, blade slicing the night.
The first boy's head sprayed blood as he dropped, but Grendel was already moving. There were ten of them, loosely clustered, and easy prey for her blade. She swept in, attacking with both the butt of her staff and blade, striking them down with ease. It was almost too simple as she killed, the blade gleaming as she spilled blood onto the dirty ground. IN a matter of moments all that were left were corpses, the dead and the dying.
"Wait..." a hand gripped her leg as Grendel passed. She looked down as the woman pulled off her mask, and Grendel felt a odd shiver of horror. Dana smiled up at her, adoration in her eyes as the said weakly, "That was magnificent..."
Andi pulled her hood off, dropping to her knees as the strength fled from her body. 'This is what she meant by looking for Grendels?' she thought disbelievingly as she cradled the dying girl in her arms.
"Andi?" Dana breathed out. "So beautiful..." then she slumped, life ebbing away from her.
"No..." Andi breathed out, shaking her weakly, tears streaking her own face. She gazed in shock at the girl she had meant to protect, dead by her hand. Then softly, almost inperceptively she began to laugh, the irony of the situation overtaking her.
Finally laughed out Andi rose, pulling on the Grendel mask once more. Obviously she had been wrong, Grendel couldn't be turned to a higher purpose. Grendel was a killer, and there were more victims waiting for her out in the night.
End
Notes: I find Grendel fascinating by the combination of evil and purpose the character can have. Hunter Rose was a bastard, Christine was almost heroic, and others have been great and despicable, depending on circumstances. Either way, it's a good comic. Oh, the names of characters are taken from creators involved with grendel, including Andi Wilson, Jill Thompson, and Dana Schultz.