Imhotep's hand hovered over the sun.
Darkness descended.
The time to hunt had come!
"Master, I've found out everything. The thieves who stole the urn are hiding in this town."
Benji, with his sharp features and beady eyes, lowered his head, not daring to look at the ancient fiend's terrifying face.
Gold ornaments covered his neck and hands, giving him the look of a nouveau riche upstart.
"Hmm."
Hatred showed in Imhotep's bloodshot eyes.
The urn was a sacred relic of Osiris, god of the underworld. Combined with the ritual magic of the Necronomicon, it could bring the dead back to life completely. He had to reclaim every last one!
"Let's go."
Wearing a pitch-black iron mask and wrapped in ragged black robes, Imhotep entered the town with Benji.
As he watched people coming and going, his gaze was icy.
When the day came that he ruled Egypt with the power of death, he would restore the old order and bring back slavery!
"Right up ahead, Master."
Benji, who had no idea what wicked thoughts the old monster beside him might be having, only cared about making money. He dutifully played the "guide" and led Imhotep to a reasonably nice inn.
Imhotep strode straight inside.
The moment he stepped through the door, he felt the call of the Osiris' Holy Urn.
Heh.
A token of the gods, and mortals dared lay hands on it?
Imhotep silently went upstairs and stopped outside a room.
As luck would have it, the room belonged to the unfortunate man whose eyes and tongue he had taken.
"Sleep."
After being treated by members of the Cult of the Sun God, the glasses man had survived, but he'd lost his sight completely, and his speech was slurred. When he heard someone enter, he assumed it was