A gruesome, ferocious beast lurking in the dark arches his back, balls up his sharp elongated talons into a fist, clenches with all his might, and flexes his commodious muscles as he lets out a snarl that forms into a growl. A growl previously entrapped in the pit of the beasts’ belly and left to brew for centuries. A growl of impatience. For all day, every day, and every day after that, the beast is compelled to listen to the sweet, majestic music-paying attribute to the great creator of all things. A king by the name of Hrothgar and his warriors rejoice and sing praises, living happily in the land created by the Creator himself. Moreover, happily they lived until the foul beast, Grendel the fiend, the wicked, the fearsome, began to stir in the hell he settled in on Earth. Grendel haunted the moor, and the wild marshes making it his territory that no man dared trot. In the midst of Grendel’s stir, he was spawned, conjured. Murderous demons and demons alike, banished by God had a sour banishment, and this left a less than exceptional taste on Grendel’s tongue. Grendel, with two horns protruding out from his extensive locks, nasty fangs clearly visible in his mouth, talons curved and sharpened to perfection, and a permanent snarl on his face sought destruction and chaos, and only that. His filthy eyes filled with nothing but darkness and fire, pure evil, fixed themselves on Herot’s men.
A gruesome, ferocious beast lurking in the dark arches his back, balls up his sharp elongated talons into a fist, clenches with all his might, and flexes his commodious muscles as he lets out a snarl that forms into a growl. A growl previously entrapped in the pit of the beasts’ belly and left to brew for centuries. A growl of impatience. For all day, every day, and every day after that, the beast is compelled to listen to the sweet, majestic music-paying attribute to the great creator of all things. A king by the name of Hrothgar and his warriors rejoice and sing praises, living happily in the land created by the Creator himself. Moreover, happily they lived until the foul beast, Grendel the fiend, the wicked, the fearsome, began to stir in the hell he settled in on Earth. Grendel haunted the moor, and the wild marshes making it his territory that no man dared trot. In the midst of Grendel’s stir, he was spawned, conjured. Murderous demons and demons alike, banished by God had a sour banishment, and this left a less than exceptional taste on Grendel’s tongue. Grendel, with two horns protruding out from his extensive locks, nasty fangs clearly visible in his mouth, talons curved and sharpened to perfection, and a permanent snarl on his face sought destruction and chaos, and only that. His filthy eyes filled with nothing but darkness and fire, pure evil, fixed themselves on Herot’s men.