So I’m sittin here in my dare cave, growling in pain, impatient as day after day I hear the music ring loud in hall. Listening to the harps rejoicing call and the poet’s clear songs, sung of the ancient beginnings of us all, thinking and remembering the almighty maker of the earth, shaping these beautiful plains marked off by oceans, and now I hear some men screaming with joy and I was furious, I hate them, all they do is jump with joy for no reason. I hear them talking about me calling me names like a demon, a fiend, so then I go up too Herot, wondering what the warriors were doing in that hall when their drinking was done. I found them sprawled in sleep, suspecting nothing, their dreams undisturbed. I slipped through the door and there I snatched up 30 men, smashed them without them knowing in their beds and I ran out with their bodies. I could feel their blood dripping on my legs as I ran out back to my place, delighted with my night’s slaughter.
As I woke up the next morning I could hear some of those people crying as they saw all the trouble I caused. So later that night I decided to go back. I wanted too kill so bad. It was never enough. I just wanted more. Everybody tried to escape from me, they tried to sleep in different beds, they did escape. I don’t know where they went. I knew they hated me.
So I knew I ruled Herot. I fought the righteous, and won all of them. Herot was empty for many years, deserted. I was finally in peace. For twelve winters I was at last in peace. I did nothing but eat all the bodies I had killed way before. But finally again I hunted in the darkness, I stalked hrothgars warriors. So I continued my crimes, killing as often as I could, I went alone so blood thirsty. Though I lived in Herot I never dared to touch king Hrothgar’s glorious throne, because I knew it was protected by god.
So later on I hear about this Beowulf guy. I hear he is the strongest of the...