On that cold fateful night, it was quite hard for me to fall asleep after the feast with Beowulf and his faithful men. Darkness had already fallen over Herot, but an unusual feeling, something similar to a barely noticeable earthquake, did not let me drown myself in sleep. A strange noise intensified, making me jump out of bed and grab my only weapon, but everyone was sleeping. Like a sign from above, I felt that I had to find any safe place immediately. Crawling like a mouse and not knowing what to expect, I reached the room’s corner and got under a large wooden bench.
Suddenly, something big and dark rushed into the hall and approached my bench, causing everyone to wake up and reach for their swords. It was my first encounter with Grendel, but I knew it was him by simply looking into that creature’s gleaming and angry eyes. Not noticing me, although I was one foot away from him, Grendel was excited to hunt for the warriors as if they were the prey. In the blink of an eye, the monster grabbed one of the warriors approaching him. With a laugh, Grendel ripped the man apart without effort as if his body was a sheet of paper (The Battle with Grendel from Beowulf line 420). The poor man’s bones and joints cracked loudly, and a splash of warm red liquid got into my eyes and mouth. Frozen with fear, I could do nothing to get rid of that familiar but disgusting metal-like taste. The smell of death, blood, and saliva filled the room, and holding my breath was the only way to prevent vomiting and avoid revealing my location.
Grendel’s feast did not last more than a few seconds. Paying almost no attention to the warriors’ attempts to injure him, Grendel started searching for a new snack. After a watchful stare, the monster jumped at Beowulf and was ready to get his powerful claws into our hero’s warm flesh. Contrary to the monster’s expectations, the brave warrior leaned on his arm and clutched Grendel’s claw as hard as he could, making the shepherd of all evil convulse. Grendel clearly refused to believe that anyone could defeat him with bare hands. He whimpered and whined when trying to escape, but Beowulf’s grip did not become any weaker, causing the monster to breathe heavily.
Happy and surprised because of Beowulf’s incredible power, I left my hiding place and joined other warriors crowding around the hero and his gradually dying enemy. Beowulf’s calm face and inner strength were in stark contrast with Grendel’s eyes that expressed nothing apart from impotent rage. Loud cracking sounds and the monster’s mournful cry ruined the dead silence, marking the resolution of the battle. Using his superhuman strength, Beowulf made a rapid wrenching movement, ripping off the enemy’s arm. On his last breath, Grendel fled away in panic, pouring blood on the floor. Still shocked, I gave Beowulf a handshake and went outside to wash my face and get rid of that disgusting smell of death.
After the battle was over, painful thoughts popped into my head; Grendel’s mother was still waiting for Beowulf to come into her terrible and hidden home. Beowulf’s fight with Grendel, a dark creature lacking any internal light, had been a true ordeal. A battle with the monster’s mother was going to be even harder for our hero (Hoffman 50). Nevertheless, a few days after, I was extremely happy to see Grendel’s arm and claw exhibited in Herot as a symbol of freedom.
Works Cited
Hoffman, Jillian. “Beowulf’s Missing Mother: Beowulf’s Relationships with Family, Women, and His Own Gender.” Furman Humanities Review, vol. 31, no.1, 2020, pp. 49‑68. Web.
The Battle with Grendel from Beowulf. Translated by Burton Raffel. Web.