Something about this strange occurrence seemed evil to those who saw it. Most people chose to stay away from the grave and leave Carl Pruitt alone. Of course, there were a few who didn't, and they paid dearly for it.
About a month after the image on the stone stopped growing, a group of local teenagers decided to ride their bicycles through the cemetery where Carl Pruitt was buried. One boy decided to defy the warnings of people who said evil was associated with the stone and that it was dangerous to disturb it. He stopped and threw rocks at the gravestone, knocking several large chips out of it. Laughing, yet a little frightened now that one of the group had actually caused minor damage to the stone, the teenagers all pedaled away toward their homes.
Suddenly, a strange thing happened to the boy who did the damage. His bicycle began to speed out of control, and he couldn't stop it. It veered off the road and crashed into a tree. Then the unbelievable happened. The sprocket chain tore loose, wrapped itself around the boy's neck, and strangled him to death. Even more unbelievable, the day after the boy's death, the tombstone was completely whole again. The pieces he had knocked off were back on again!
The dead boy's mother was distraught after his death. During the next month, her grief and anger built until she couldn't stand it anymore. She had to have revenge. She took a small hand axe to the graveyard and pounded Carl Pruitt's tombstone into a dozen pieces. Then she went back home, feeling some relief after what she had done. The next day, she did the family wash and took the clothes out to the yard to hang them on her clothesline to dry. Most clotheslines were made of rope or wire, but hers was made of a small chain. While she was hanging the clothes, she somehow stumbled and became entangled in the clothesline. She was strangled to death trying to get free. After she died, the Pruitt tombstone she had smashed with her axe miraculously became whole, just as it had done once before.
As news of these strange deaths spread, a morbid interest in the tombstone grew. There were those who believed and stayed at a respectful distance, but there were those who disbelieved and wanted to prove the believers wrong.
A short time passed, and one day a farmer and three members of his family were driving by the cemetery where Pruitt was buried. The farmer was one of the skeptics and likely wanted to prove something to his family members. He pulled out a gun he always carried and fired several shots at Pruitt's headstone. He hit his target, and chunks of the headstone flew in all directions. Frightened by the shots, the horses ran faster and faster until the wagon was out of control. The family members jumped to safety, but the farmer held on, pulling the reins to stop. His efforts were useless, and the wagon swerved around a curve, throwing the farmer from his seat. He flew forward and caught on one of the trace chains, breaking his neck. Once again, after this tragic event, Carl Pruitt's tombstone was whole again!
Talk of curses and mysterious deaths grew in the community and was called to the attention of the local congressman. He felt compelled to respond, so he sent two police officers to the cemetery to investigate the odd stories. One of the officers considered the assignment somewhat beneath him, so he laughed and joked about ghosts and curses. He and his partner took some photos and left to interview some witnesses to the events. As they were leaving in the police car, the skeptical officer saw a light coming from the direction of Carl Pruitt's headstone. As it came closer and closer, the officer drove faster and faster. As it reached the car, the officer swerved off the road and crashed the car between two posts. He was hit by a chain that had been hanging between the two posts. It smashed through the windshield, wrapped around the officer's neck, and almost severed his head. The other officer was thrown free and injured only slightly.
The officer's death was enough to make most people believers and to keep them away from the cemetery. There was one unfortunate exception, however; his name was Mr. Lewis. He declared the whole thing was nonsense and set out one night with a chisel and sledgehammer to prove it. People in the vicinity of the cemetery could hear the sounds as he chipped away at the stone, but they kept their distance and did nothing until they heard a blood-curdling scream cut through the night air. Several men grabbed lanterns and hurried to the cemetery to see what had happened. When they reached the gate, they found Mr. Lewis dead there, looking as though he had been running to escape. The long chain used to keep the gate closed was wrapped around his neck. They figured that he must have been so frightened by something that he forgot about the chain and ran right into it. The strange thing was that all the hammering he did on Pruitt's stone did no damage to it at all.