DeStiy remained only barely conscious, his vision disappearing at the edges.
Laughter awoke him fully again for more lingering, painfilled moments, a chilling, mind-crushing laughter of rejection and derision. He looked up.
Satan stood over him. Tall. Classically handsome.
“Enoch DeStiy. I reject you.”
Satan sneered. DeStiy howled in anguish.
“Your service to me has been...ineffectual. Futile.”
DeStiy writhed on the floor, fearing the enormity of his rejection.
“I give you nothing, DeStiy. You deserve nothing. You are nothing.”
Enoch DeStiy whimpered. Forsaken and destroyed, he faded into an unconsciousness filled with an oblivion of rejection, anguish and fear.