Grendel's Tension In Beowulf

A wise king stood in front of his soldiers reminiscing about the past. Many years had passed since his most glorious triumphs, yet he remembered them like they were in the present. Had it really been fifty years since he had slain the demon Grendel and his mother? Only fifty years ago had Beowulf become a household name. People shuttered in awe at his presence. His story was known throughout the land. So many years have passed, yet he recalled the scenes like he was still there.
Night had fallen swiftly that night. All but one guard had drifted off into unshakable slumber. The sound of the snores penetrated the stillness held in the hall. The remaining guard stood prepared for what was lurking behind the walls he was there to protect, even at the cost of his own life. Tension loomed in the air
The demon, Grendel, was making his way back to the place he had taken so many lives before. The lifeless mist instilled an aura of calm, a cloak Grendel had used many times to overpower the many men he had slain. Once he reached his destination he did what he had done many times. Grendel ripped down the door and prepared to feast upon the sleeping fools that lay before him. He approached his first meal and tore his chest open like he was only a ragdoll. The agonizing crunch of breaking bones echoed through the halls, yet did not wake any of the guards from their soon to be eternal oblivion. A metallic scent rose into the air as Grendel’s lips became scarlet with the sweet taste he had come to love over the years. The demon smelled a new odor he could not identify. He twisted his body and was brought face to face with Beowulf. Grendel gave Beowulf a hideous glimpse of his long, jagged teeth and prepared to lunge forward to strike him with his razor-sharp talons. Before he could perform this deed Beowulf grabbed his raised hand. Now Grendel understood the smell in the air: it was the smell of his own fear. In a swift motion Beowulf grabbed the demon