Clank, was the sound that the dragon awoke to. He rose his enormous neck (that was previously buried
in the pile of coins and treasure) only to see a thief stealing a gold goblet from the pile. The
Demon of Fire quenched, bursting an enormous stream of fire from his mouth, engulfing the entire
side of the cave in a deep orange flame. The thief was petrified with fear. But, somehow he had
managed to escape with his life. The dragon roared, not a normal roar, but a grim, deep horn that
could be heard for miles, filled with rage and anger. He lifted his gigantic wings and burst up into
the sky. For a week the dragon flew with the moon. An endless feeding frenzy, scorching the earth as
he soared above it. He fed without remorse, on men, horses, dogs, and even children. The bodies
piled up higher than his stash of treasures within the first night. By the end of the week, they
were all eaten. The dragon was satisfied, and he would once again fall into a deep slumber. Another
week passed until the dragon heard the voice of Beowulf and his men. "Dragon! You have met your
match!" The devil creature grinned, picked up his feet, and hid in the back of the cave, wrapped
around himself. He saw Beowulf storm into the cave, unaware of his presence only five meters behind
him. "Show Yourself!" Beowulf yelled. The dragon extended his wingspan all the way out and blew
out a cloud of fire and smoke. Beowulf managed to block it with his shield, but it was no longer
useful, black and sizzling. The dragon stomped hard on the ground. The vibration caused Beowulf to
fall hard on his backside. The lizard preceded by lifting his right foot and crushing Beowulf's
sternum. Beowulf coughed blood, and squinted as the dragon's red eyes lit bright with fury. The
dragon's enormous teeth clamped down on Beowulf's neck, resulting in an immediate flow of blood.
Beowulf managed to lift his arm and dig his dagger into the bottom of the dragon's lef, springing
free. The dragon lunged at Beowulf and swung the spiked ball at the end of his tail at the
warrior's tiny head. Suddenly, Wiglaf jumped and blocked the blow with his shield. His shield
shattered like glass all over the cavern floor. Wiglaf then lunged at the dragon, and stabbed him
right in the throat. The dragon stopped, murky black blood spilled down the front of his body as he
fell to the ground lifeless. Wiglaf turned around to see his master dying on the ground. The serpent
had seared his sternum and severed half his ribs. He was still bleeding out of his neck. "Lord, I
can still save you."

"Wiglaf, you are a valiant warrior, and I am grateful for your courage. But this is my time. I
have defeated all foes, and reigned king for fifty years. My time is up."

"Don't say that." Wiglaf cried.

"The dragon's treasure and the treasure I possess belongs to you now."

Wiglaf tried to argue but it was too late. Beowulf had faded into the afterlife. The king was dead.
Time turned tediously, ad Wiglaf waited and cried in the cave for hours. Finally, he got up and
walked out, never turning his back, and told his men their king needed to be buried.