Page 8 of Beauty and the Grendel

“Yes. They said it has the same dark skin and horns. That’s why they assumed it was you.”

I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. “But that’s not possible. Grendels aren’t meat eaters. We don’t feast on bloody carcasses.”

Harlow’s eyes widened. “So you think it’s something else entirely? Not a Grendel at all?”

“It has to be.” I paced again, my mind racing. “But what could it be? And why is it targeting these specific people?”

Harlow laid a hand on my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “We’ll figure it out, Griiq.”

I looked down at her, a rush of gratitude and love flowed from my heart. “I know we will. But we need to be careful. If this creature is as vicious as the townspeople say...”

“I’m not afraid,” Harlow said fiercely. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Or to anyone else in Grimsby.”

I pulled her into my arms, holding her close. “I won’t let anything happen to you either. I promise.”

We stood there for a long moment, drawing strength from each other’s embrace. I knew that the road ahead would be dangerous. Even with a monster that wore my face.

??

I sat at the large wooden table in the castle’s library, a map of Grimsby spread out before me. Harlow leaned over my shoulder, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the locations of the attacks.

“Based on the pattern, it seems like the creature is targeting homes on the outskirts of the village,” I said, tracing my finger along the map. “If we can predict where it might strike next, we can set up surveillance and catch it in the act.”

Harlow nodded, her hazel eyes bright with determination. “We’ll need cameras. And motion sensors. Anything that can help us track its movements.”

“I can go into town and purchase the equipment,” I said, rising from my chair. “You stay here and keep working on the map.”

But Harlow shook her head, her hand coming to rest on my arm. “No, Griiq. I want you to come with me.”

I hesitated, uncertainty twisting in my gut. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? The people of Grimsby, they’re afraid of me. They think I’m a monster.”

“Then we’ll show them they’re wrong.” Harlow’s voice was fierce, her grip on my arm tightening. “I won’t let them continue to believe these lies about you. You’re not a monster, Griiq. You’re a good man.”

I swallowed hard, emotion rising in my throat. “Alright. We’ll go together.”

We rode into Grimsby in my Hummer. As we made our way towards the general store, I felt the weight of curious stares and fearful whispers.

“It’s him,” I heard someone mutter. “The monster from the castle.”

“What’s he doing here?” another voice hissed. “Shouldn’t he be locked up?”

I kept my head down, my shoulders hunched as if to make myself smaller. But Harlow walked tall beside me, her head held high and her hand firmly clasped in mine.

Inside the store, the shopkeeper eyed me warily as we gathered the supplies we needed. But Harlow greeted him with a warm smile, engaging him in friendly conversation as she paid for our purchases.

As we stepped back out onto the street, a small group of children playing nearby stopped to stare at me. I braced myself for their fear, for the inevitable cries of monster.

Harlow knelt down beside them, her voice gentle as she introduced me. “This is my friend Griiq,” she said. “He’s not a monster. He’s here to help keep Grimsby safe.”

The children looked at me with wide, curious eyes. And then, to my surprise, they smiled. “Hi Griiq,” a little girl said shyly. “I like your horns.”

A lump rose in my throat, and I managed a small smile in return. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I like your pigtails.”

We drove back to the castle with the equipment stored safely in the back. A glimmer of hope surfaced. Maybe we could prove that I wasn’t the monster they believed me to be.

Chapter 7

Harlow

---