The Legend of Beowulf-A Narrative (part one)

 After the time of Cain, Noah had three sons. He took them and their wives upon his arc, and after the flood, one went East, one went South, and one went North, and they mulitipled. Then the tower of Babel was built and fell, scattering the land and its inhabitants. The land in the East would later be called Asia, then that son's desecndants would later go across the bridge into the Americas. The land in the South would later be called Africa, and the land in the North would later be called Europe.

 One of the foul beasts that crawled from Cain went to the North too, and lived there for thousands of years, and had a son. This son was called Grendel. The spawn of Satan and Cain lived in a pit, under the earth, sleeping and tormenting.

 Then after time passed it was 560 A.D. and our story takes place in the Juteland (pronouncedd Ute-land) peninsula, later called Denmark.  There lived many tribes there, and this one was to the North-East of the Jutes (pronounced Utes) were the Danes. They were rejoicing in their Feasting Hall known as Heorot. The Chieftan Hrothgar, brother of Halga, son of Half-Dane, descendent of the Shielding, sat on his throne and guzzled mead from his might drinking horn. He was not King, Scyld Scefing, the Shielding was, but he had passed already, and no new king was crowned. But Hrothgar still weilded much power. His wife sat next to him as she gazed across the hall. The voices of drunken men yelling derrogatory comments to her and fighting filled the hall.

 Then, a low rumbling filled the hall, the rushes and beams shook, antlers and axes fall off the walls. Hrothgar took his wife's hand. The Danes unsheathed their swords. The torches blew out, and the only light left were the embers of the coals of the feasting fire. The doors were ripped off their hinges, fell, and killed a few men. A foot the size of a barrell stepped through the large doorway. Then, a leg, then another leg, then an arm reached through, then an entire body. It was a monster. Its skin was blood-red, and had large horns like a goat, claws on its hands and feet and was ugly and gruesome. The demon stood nine feet tall. The creature let out an extremely loud and low-pitched bellow. A warror, axe in hand, ran to meet the monster in battle, but the creature raised its fist then smote the man on the head, caving his skull.

 Many more men, afraid as they were, tried to fight it, only to meet a sick demise. One by one, men were flung about, crushed into the stone ground, and torn apart. A handful of men managed to hide and not be found. Hrothgar, having sent his wife with the hidden men, was left with a few survivors. But those survivors soon died. The beast picked up one last man in its hand, which was the size of of a treasure chest. It raised the screaming man, then opened its mouth. Its deep and frightening voice shook the rafters as it said this, "I........AM......GRENDEL." Then it crushed the man with a mighty crunch as it shattered the man's bones. He let the man drop to the ground, a crumpled heap. Hrothgar stared in fear and awe. The demon ran from the hall. Hrothgar lit the torches again.

 The rampages of Grendel lasted for months, but Hrothgar still had his mead hall, his wife, and some men. But they could not stop this beast, he was not the work of man, but the work of evil, the work of Satan. He would need someone who was worthy of this task. He needed, a hero.