Shattered and Damned

A bead of sweat dripped down Johan's forehead. Neither seemed like a very good choice, but what could he do?

"Shatter my soul. I'd rather be an husk then be subjected to eternal torment and ridicule."

"Heh-heh. If that is your choice..."

The King snapped his fingers and Esau screamed in agony, falling to his knees. It felt like his insides were caught in a whirlpool, his essence being sucked out through his mouth like a drink through a straw. His eyes rolled back, showing only his whites, and his body went limp. His soul swam out of him in loop-de-loops and floated on over to the King, who stroked the little ball of golden light and let it play around his hand, oblivious to what was about to happen to it. Esau gasped, his hand limply grasping at the soul so far out of his reach, a last, feeble, worthless attempt at stopping what was happening, but...

The King grasped his soul and squeezed on it. The little ball cracked, and after a few seconds broke, shattered into a million small shards that quickly disappeared away into tiny nothings of dust.

Esau was truly damned now. His body withered by the seconds, turning into a gray, gaunt husk, with eyes as dark as charcoal, and two tiny nibs on his forehead; a weak imitation of horns. The King snapped his fingers again, and Esau found himself outside the keep once more, doomed to wallow in his own pity and sorrow at what has been done.

Perhaps someday he will get his **** on Belial, but it doesn't seem likely.