The music and the merriment rang loud night after night. Never once was I invited, never was an invitation even slightly directed towards me. They just continued their fun without the smallest thought of asking me. They drink until they cannot anymore, and pass out in the mead hall floor. I’ll show them, just wait and see. Revenge shall be ever so sweet.

            At night I shall lurk when they all are asleep, and steal their merriment forever. No longer will the parties go on. Their bones with be crushed, and their blood will fly. Hrothgar will regret forgetting about me. No more music, no more bards, tonight is the night to get my revenge!

            For many years my “ruling” kept going. No one could defeat me, although they tried so hard. My skin is too thick for their weapons to pierce, and my strength has met no match. The warriors run scared, and the king is shaken; therefore, my revenge has proved to be worthwhile for me.

            One night seemed different, not quite like the rest. When I arrived at the mead hall, a laugh rumbled in my chest. New warriors were there apparently awaiting my arrival. I scooped up one, just like on any other night, and “poof” went his life. The second one came with a surprise. He was stronger than the rest; I had to fight and hope to survive.

            An enormous pain shot through my arm. The muscles all throughout snapped and brought tears to my eyes. “Who is this man?” I thought as I tried my hardest to get his grip loosened. The more I fought, the worse it hurt. My arm wasn’t up to the test because it snapped off in his hand.

            Bleeding profusely, I quickly ran away. I can hardly believe the strength he has. The closer I came to my lair, the weaker I became. “Who was that man?” I keep thinking as I close my eyes and slowly drift away. “I have been beaten; avenge me please,” were the last words I uttered to my mother with my final breath.