Grendel

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Mel Schweizer

So, this month for blogger, since the requirement is about something we've discussed in class, I thought I'd write a short story from the perspective of Grendel
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     Submerged in the filth of the swamp I call my own, I watched as the amphibians and fish were snatched up, in the mouths of their silent predators. They all strayed away from me, knowing that I'm the top carnivore in the area. The murky, muddy water surrounded me in a calm blanket. I sat in wait for my next meal, feeling hungrier than ever. But my main goal wasn't to gain sustenance. I just thought the swamp was pretty.
    The green hue of life filled my eyes in this underwater scene. The sound of violent attackers sounded muddled in my ears, as the victims' blood diffused around me. Everything here is beautiful. Everything was beautiful, it's just hard to see past the blood and guts, but the cycle of life really doesn't get enough credit for its beauty. Creatures marvel at shells on the beach and the sand, and find beauty in them. They are the carcasses and homes of the sea animals that once lived. What's so different between that, and a fresh kill?
    An eel decided that I wasn't a threat and ventured into my reaching distance. I watched its graceful ribbon-like stride for a moment and then quickly pierced it with my claws.
    It's not enough. Maybe I can find something bigger on land.
    Having finished my snack, I unstuck myself from the mud which had been holding me like a throne, and emerged into the bright and clear night sky, to breathe again. My sopping fur clung to the surface of the water, as if to hold me back in its suffocating depths. Beautiful.
    A sound had come from the beyond the edge of the swamp, and I could see two humanly figures standing and giggling. Two men, piss drunk, poked at the edges of the water with sticks, having a pleasant conversation. I couldn't quite tell what they were saying, but it didn't matter. My stomach growled, loud enough for them to hear. They froze, clasping each other's arms in fear. My young limbs acted without me. I sprung into action, peddling towards the men.
    They yelped and ran, but they were too slow. I grabbed the slower one by the hand and held him up. He was about two-thirds of my size. The other man turned back, and I could see the tears in his eyes.
    He had two options at this point, both would be in favor of me. Either he could run and try to fight me off of the first man and be killed and eaten, or he could betray his partner and sprint in the opposite direction. Even if he did, I could easily catch up.
    He chose the former. He kicked and screamed at me. He punched and stabbed, yet all attempts were ineffective. I reached for him.
    Now they were both in my clutches.
At this point, my stomach couldn't handle it anymore. The second man watched in absolute horror as I unhinged my jaw and swallowed his friend in two big gulps. Then it was his turn.
    Once I had finished my meal, the hunger ached less, but I still wasn't satisfied. No horses had run loose tonight, and no wolves had camped out in the forest.
    Maybe it was a little miracle, but candle light glowed in the distance: A mead hall where the men and soldiers had fun. I had never really considered raiding the place. I honestly like humans, they're interesting.
    But sometimes the hunger gets to be too much...



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