Critical Analysis of Beowulf

Grendel Deep indoors the earth, in the frigid darkness laid the mighty beast Grendel. His tall, bring downcast frame trembled as the melodious hymns floated down to his lair. The joyful music sounded analogous liquid gold and it stung Grendels ears. He howled a mournful, drawn- by utter in pain. After several days of the Earthwalkers continuous celebration, Grendel was becoming steadily impatient, thirsting for retri preciselyion. How he acheed to gustatory modality the bitter, metallic blood that coursed through their veins, and how his whole be ached to cause mayhem.The enormous demon was growing weary of hearing to the highest degree how the world was created. He was tired of them drinking, and celebrating, all while he suffered at heart the black, bleak cave he was banished to. He would make them suffer, though. Grendel was a expert demon, and he was ready to demonstrate how powerful he truly was. Children of Cain, much(prenominal) as Grendel, do not often sit idly b y, as those whom carouse the victories of the Gods that banished Grendel and his familiars to the Underworld.Forever was Grendel to be punished for the death of Abel, a crime of which he did not commit. To make matters worse, his familiars were on the losing end of the war against Gods creatures, thus mould them deeper deep down the shadows. However, that would not be the case today. It had gone on long enough. Grendels large feral body trembled in anticipation he would regard them to iniquity. He would spill their blood in the streets and show them what such a mighty creature can do. Then, as the icy blanket of night crept across the Above World, Grendel emerged from his cavern.His muscular legs propelled him quickly across the grassy palm to Herot, and as he went, Grendel wondered how the warriors would be recuperating from their celebrations. As he approached Herot, he implant all of the warriors scattered throughout, all in a deep sleep. As he stepped lightly on the ground , Grendel sniffed the air. A fowl stench of brandy abstruse with the bitter scent of their sweat intoxicated Grendel. His canine ears perked as he heard the slow, rhythmic beating of each of their hearts. He walked among their numbers, gazing upon each authorisation dupe and sizing them up.Who would provide the best kill? Who would give him the risque blood he so eagerly wished to taste. Finally, he came upon the perfect victim a boy, about to become a man, his warriors helmet was slightly askew on his sandy-colored hair. A silvery trail of drool slid from his lips and out onto the cold muffin floor as he snored quietly. He had obviously never undergo battle, for his armor was made only of thin leather and had not flat a fleck of dirt on it. Grendels black lips curled upward as he gazed down upon his unk at one timeing victim.The power of the demon could coquette his skull in a second, splattering the boys hopes and dreams all across the stone floor. No, that would be too a brupt and it wouldnt be the warriors death that this boy obviously so eagerly desired. No, Grendel would enjoy this. So with one slash of his razor-sharp talons, the boys throat was cut. Long ribbons of scarlet ran down his almost severed head and down onto the floor. The instant his neck was cut, his eyes shot wide open in horror, staring for only a moment at his murderer.The fear, now graven eternally in his face, was like that of watching your worst nightmare flow right in front of your eyes. That moment was everything Grendel wanted from his journey into mayhem. That undivided moment was what captured Grendels thirst and made it fifty-fifty stronger. Grendel licked the crimson bead from his claws and savored the coppery taste. He could feel it enter his body and it made him even stronger. Every one of his muscles throbbed in eagerness to slaughter to a greater extent people, to taste more blood, and to incite even more fear. He moved swiftly between his victims, his footst eps barely making a whisper.After a few more throat cuttings, Grendel decided he would massacre more by suppress a few skulls. Moving up to one rather large warrior, he grasped the warriors head within his long fingers, and the instant Grendel felt the warrior awaken, he squeezed with tremendous force. Within that moment, the warriors body felt limp, his enormous weight now pulling Grendels arm down. The demon could feel the sharp fragments of bone and helmet at bottom his hand, and the warm, stickiness of the blood as it ran along his fingers. Over two dozen more, he did this to, before carrying all of their bodies back to his lair.On his way back, though, he made undisputable that they left a long river of blood towards his cavern. Grendel greatly anticipated the wake of the other warriors. As soon as day broke, he was not disappointed those whom Grendel had spared began to cry and moan as they discovered the fate of their love ones and compatriots. Their joyous songs of cel ebration turned to marred hymns of lament. Now that was music to Grendels ears. In fact, the magnitude of excitement Grendel felt made it impossible for him to stay within his cavern that night.Just like he had done last night, he crept out of his lair and slaughtered even more of the warriors. As the months drew on, eventually the stay warriors would try to combat Grendel, or run and hide. Each warrior, young or old, met the same fate as those Grendel had killed on his first night. A drear and gory death awaited any and all who Grendel wanted to kill. historic period began to pass, and Herot became abandoned, thus making Grendel the only inhabitant. No longer were stories told of the creation of the world, but instead of Grendels power and hatred.