Your death has come to greet you!

While in my watery hell, I prepare myself for the pathetic attack Beowulf will attempt to throw at me, but never shall he be victorious! Sudden movement catches my eye, and at once I know he has come to me, ready to endure the pain of my claws digging deep within his skin. I want to rip his limbs, as he respected my son. I notice his sword- which is of no use in my realm, and I cackle once he discovers that same fact. Yes, this Beowulf character has much strength, but never enough to defeat the almighty She-Devil!
I drive him deep within a chamber, built by the ancient giant ages ago. He wrestles me to the ground, with thoughts of being successful, but no, I refuse to allow such nonsense. As I readily prepare to slaughter the foolish mortal he creeps up the podium and releases the magical sword of the giants. My eyes go wide and bulge with terror and fear as I am being sliced deep within my neck, bone and all. Yes, death has come, only not the death of Beowulf, but the death of me, the She-Devil. Whispers of death engulf me, and soon my soul is stripped from my physical form.