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Alright... felt like making a thread for my own "work". I might dig up some of the old "poems" I've written in SPAM... maybe...
But first, since Tuor had something to do for Beowulf in his school and so did I, I'll post that narrative now.
It's supposed to be a story in the perspective of the monster, Grendel, and a part not mentioned in the epic (make up our own). Oh, and it's all in first person present pov... I think.
Grendel's Remembrance
On this moment of the sun's rise, there seems to be such little suffering surrounding me. That needs to change very soon. I left my lazy mother mumbling some mundane nonsense I had no care to listen to. I splash out of the bitterly cold pool of the sky's saliva I call my home. It feels like forever as I swim up from the cave. As soon as I emerge, I encounter a noise most annoying. Oh how I wish that the morning-singers that chirped with cheer would have just choked on their own challenging calls. What would there be that makes them so happy? There is only miserable existence among the darkness that always sits around me. I suppose I will just do what I do every week or so: go Scylding hunting...
I crawl around the mushy earth and lick my lips for the coming taste of the gushing juices of red. As I approach an impressive mound of grass, I seem to remember something about the very place. This hill... ah yes... now I remember. It was many, many years ago, before the silly king built his overbearing structures on my land. I was chasing long-eared, furry skippers. The small creatures, so elegant and evasive. So brightly white like a waving layer of light and mist. I only caught one, but it was delicious. Then, on the hill, I laid my eyes upon a smelly Scylding with a smeared face and a sluggish smirk. He spotted me and fell back in shock. The shiny war-stick of his was quickly taken out, and with unwavering speed he charged. I closed my eyes, quivered and shivered. His unbearable roar raged into my ears, as if a hundred feather-flappers were calling from his throat. He swung his blade with a downward angle, yet I did not feel its bite. The Scylding was equally shocked, and he just stood there and gawked. I had my chance and grabbed his face. With one swift pull I ripped off his head. It was my first human slay. I at first was too scared to touch him again, but I heard my stomach call for food. Dipping my lips into the leaking liquid, the life-juice was satisfying and savory. The flesh was hardy and filling. My first taste of human. I then turned as my spawner rushed to me. My face was unmoving, but when I saw her, I smiled...
My head is tilted. My eyes are tempered. My mind is timid. I feel an omen as I stare at this hill of a memory. My body feels sore, and my arm is numb. I wander onward to the clearing ahead. I can see the walls of wood and the center of celebration. My heart is slowing down and anxiety is overcoming. The horned head of a hart is mounted in plain sight. I've been coming here for over a decade, and it's become my personal pantry of preciously tasty people. I finger my fang and imagine the coming meal. The wind is tilting the tall grass toward the towering building. The day star is piercing light through slivers of cloud. Let's see what fools will fall into my food sac tonight...
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Last edited by Bk-o on Wed Aug 04, 2010 6:29 am, edited 12 times in total.
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Naw. How about all three of us combine, in the form of a sexy Godzilla? We would totally fuck Mothra.
Heh.
