Critical Analysis of Beowulf

Grendel Deep inwardly the earth, in the frigid darkness laid the mighty beast Grendel. His tall, grisly frame trembled as the melodious hymns floated down to his lair. The joyful music sounded like liquid gold and it stung Grendels ears. He howled a mournful, lengthy growl in pain. After several days of the Earthwalkers continuous celebration, Grendel was becoming steadily impatient, thirsting for retribution. How he longed to turn out the bitter, metallic blood that coursed through their veins, and how his whole body ached to cause mayhem.The enormous demon was growing bore of hearing round how the world was created. He was tired of them drinking, and celebrating, all while he suffered within the black, mordant cave he was banished to. He would make them suffer, though. Grendel was a deft demon, and he was ready to demonstrate how justly he truly was. Children of Cain, such as Grendel, do not often sit idly by, as those whom carouse the victories of the Gods that banished Gr endel 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 casting them deeper within 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 strike them tonight. He would spew their blood in the streets and show them what such a mighty creature can do. Then, as the stock-still blanket of night crept across the Above World, Grendel emerged from his cavern.His muscular legs propelled him quickly across the grassy fields to Herot, and as he went, Grendel wondered how the warriors would be recuperating from their celebrations. As he approached Herot, he found all of the warriors scattered through give away, all in a deep sleep. As he stepped lightly on the ground, Grendel sniffed the air. A fowl stench of brandy confused 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 potential victim and sizing them up.Who would provide the best kill? Who would relieve oneself him the luscious 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 stone floor as he snored quietly. He had obviously never experienced battle, for his fit out was made only of thin leather and had not in time a fleck of dirt on it. Grendels black lips curled upwards as he gazed down upon his unknowing victim.The power of the demon could welt his skull in a second, splattering the boys hopes and dreams all across the stone floor. No, that would be too abrupt and it wouldnt be the warriors death that this bo y obviously so eagerly desired. No, Grendel would enjoy this. So with one slash of his distinct talons, the boys throat was cut. Long ribbons of scarlet ran down his almost severed head and down onto the floor. The gross his have it off was cut, his eyes shot wide open in horror, staring for only a moment at his murderer.The fear, now etched eternally in his face, was like that of watching your worst nightmare transpire indemnify in front of your eyes. That moment was everything Grendel wanted from his journey into mayhem. That single moment was what captured Grendels thirst and made it flush stronger. Grendel licked the crimson beads from his claws and savored the coppery taste. He could feel it enter his body and it made him level stronger. Every one of his muscles throbbed in eagerness to slaughter more people, to taste more blood, and to incite even more fear. He moved swiftly between his victims, his footsteps barely making a whisper.After a a few(prenominal) more throat cuttings, Grendel decided he would massacre more by crushing a few skulls. Moving up to one rather rotund 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 clout Grendels arm down. The demon could feel the sharp fragments of bone and helmet inside 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 trusted that they left a long river of blood towards his cavern. Grendel greatly anticipated the awakening 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 depute of their loved ones and compatriots. Their joyous songs of celebration turned to marred hymns of lament. Now that was music to Grendels ears. In fact, the magnitude of fervency Grendel felt made it impossible for him to stay within his cavern that night.Just like he had done furthest night, he crept out of his lair and slaughtered even more of the warriors. As the months drew on, eventually the remaining 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 gruesome and gory death awaited any and all who Grendel wanted to kill. long time 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.