The pure gold cobra in the mummy's hand seemed to come alive, as if imbued with life, lunging out like an electrified crossbow arrow as the man in charge bent over it. Its mouth wide open, it spat out its tongue with a hissing sound and bit viciously into his neck.
The man in charge gasped, stumbled backwards, and reached to grasp the cobra. But before his hand could even touch it, his body stiffened, like he was poisoned. Then his vitality seemed to drain away, visibly ageing, his skin withering, his hair falling. He had turned into a living mummy.
Hiss. The crowd of spectators collectively drew in a chilling breath, backed away a few steps, their eyes wide with terror, staring incredulously at the scene.
Hiss. The cobra left the mummified figure and slithered back onto the mummy, biting into its neck, likely nourishing it with the life essence it had taken.
