The Revenant: The Chilling Story of "Chain Killer" Carl Pruitt
Those who believe in an afterlife, and in turn the possibility that disembodied spirits can remain earthbound, will tell you that the latter pose no threat to the living. Be that as it may, in rare instances, individuals whose penchant for evil could not be contained have been known to continue taking their spite out on humanity from the grave. And so it was with a gentleman, and I use the term loosely, named Carl Pruitt, who was just as destructive in death as he had been in life.
The stage for the tragic events to come was set in the summer of 1938 when forty-three-year-old Carl Pruitt returned from working the late shift to find his spouse in the arms of another man. His rage boiling over, the factory worker had attacked the pair. His wife’s lover was able to escape by climbing out the nearest window, leaving her behind to face the consequences alone.
Unable to contain his emotions, Pruitt had clasped his hands around his wife’s throat and squeezed until she went limp. When he came to his senses a few moments later, the suddenly remorseful husband had retrieved a pistol from a dresser drawer. Rather than facing the hangman, Pruitt had placed the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Needless to say, the murder/suicide sent shockwaves reverberating throughout Pulaski County, Kentucky, where the incident took place. To add insult to injury, Mrs. Pruitt’s family learned that her killer’s relatives were planning on burying him in the same cemetery in which she was being laid to rest. Under threat of more violence, the disgraced husband’s survivors backed down. With few other options available at the time, Pruitt’s remains were interred in a cemetery on the outskirts of town that was known as the last stop for criminals and other unsavory characters. After coming to the conclusion that he had condemned himself to an eternity in Hell either way, they figured his final resting place didn’t really matter in the end.
A month after Pruitt was buried with little to no fanfare, visitors to the site were surprised to see that an odd chain-like pattern in the shape of a cross had appeared on the newly erected grave marker. As days past, the discoloration, if that’s what it was, began to spread over top of the plot itself.
The cross constructed from a chain of unknown origin soon became the talk of the town. As word of the phenomena spread, residents flocked to the cemetery to see what all the fuss was about. The irony of a revered religious symbol appearing on the marker of the area’s most notorious killer was lost on no one. Unfortunately, what began as a lark turned ugly when some of the curiosity seekers got more than they bargained for.
The first recorded incident occurred one evening when a group of teenage boys hell-bent on mischief decided that it would be fun to throw rocks at Pruitt’s grave marker. One of the teens had been so dedicated to the task that he managed to knock a chunk out of the limestone. The boy, James Collins, had been thrilled with the lucky shot. As it turned out, an unseen presence that was also there that night wasn’t nearly as impressed.
When it started getting dark, the boys hopped on their bikes and headed for home. Along the way, Collins had called out to his buddies that his brakes were out. As he raced along the back roads at an alarming speed, his bicycle seemingly taking on a life of its own, he could do nothing but hold on tight and hope to eventually coast to a stop.
Collins’ friends, who watched the harrowing scene unfold, later told authorities that the bike had left the road and hit a tree as it rounded a sharp turn. When they went to check on James, they found him lying in the wreckage with the bicycle chain wrapped so tightly around his neck that they couldn’t pry it loose. They had run for help, but there was no saving the middle schooler, who was pronounced dead at the scene. Though no one could explain how the chain ended up around his neck, the cause of death was ruled ‘accidental.’
While the coroner seemed satisfied with the findings, the public consensus was that Carl Pruitt, whose bad temper was legendary in the region, had exacted revenge on the teenager for desecrating his gravesite. One of the most adamant proponents of this theory was James’ grieving mother.
The morning after laying her only son to rest, Mrs. Collins had shown up at the cemetery where Pruitt was buried armed with a pickaxe and enough pent-up hostility to move a mountain. After cursing him up and down, she had proceeded to chip away at the headstone of the man she believed was responsible for James’ untimely demise.
After doing a fair bit of damage, Mrs. Collins had gone home to tend to her chores. As she was hanging the washing on the line, she lost her footing, causing her to pitch forward into the clothesline, which rather than being the traditional rope or twine, was constructed of fine chain. Though no one knew for certain what happened next, the end result left her already broken-hearted husband in tatters. Her body was discovered early that afternoon with the chain-link clothesline tied around her neck. Much like her deceased child, her death was deemed a freak accident.
In an odd twist, Pruitt’s relatives, having been informed that his grave had been vandalized, could find no signs of damage when they visited the site. If the ill-fated James Collins and his equally unfortunate mother had damaged the marker as many believed, it had been restored, seemingly overnight.
Proving that people aren’t always quick on the uptake, a farmer passing by the cemetery one day in a horse-drawn carriage, his family in tow, slowed down when Pruitt’s grave came into view. Pulling out the revolver he kept on him for just such an occasion, he had fired several shots at the headstone, sending pieces flying in all directions. Though his intention had been to show the killer who was boss, his actions had spooked the horses, who bolted at the sound of gunfire.
As his wife and children held on for dear life, the farmer had tried to get the horses under control. In a panic, the animals left the dirt road, causing the carriage to tumble over an embankment. Though his family escaped with only a few cuts and bruises, the farmer wasn’t so lucky. Recreating the events of that day, authorities determined that he had been sent careening forward into the harnesses. When they were finally able to untangle the farmer’s body, they found that he had suffered a broken neck as a result of being thrown headfirst into the trace chains.
Even though the farmer’s survivors had sworn up and down that he had shot Pruitt’s grave marker several times, causing considerable damage, no visible flaws could be found. If anything, the headstone looked better than ever.
With three questionable deaths on their hands, local officials, bowing to public pressure, agreed to entertain the possibility that supernatural forces were at play in their God-fearing community. Deputies tasked with taking pictures of Pruitt’s gravesite for evidentiary purposes, found it difficult to take their assignment seriously. One of them had complained openly of the time and money being wasted on chasing ghosts.
As the officer and his partner were leaving the cemetery, they saw a strange light reflected in the cruiser’s rear-view mirror. Thinking little of it at the time, they had driven away, still grousing about how far their profession had fallen.
While traversing the back roads, the officers noted that the light, which was still shining brightly in the mirror, seemed to be getting closer. The driver, who was the one who had made the derogatory statements at the cemetery, sped up in an attempt to outrun the light, which was beginning to strike fear in both of the seasoned lawmen. His efforts proved futile as the light now appeared to be entering the vehicle through the back window.
As the passenger pleaded with his partner to slow down, the car left the pavement, flipping several times before coming to a stop in an area that was cordoned off with a chain suspended from cement posts on either side.
Despite having been thrown from the car, the passenger had emerged virtually unscathed. His partner was a different story entirely. His mangled remains were discovered dangling from the chain, his head nearly severed from his body. His death, much like the others, was ruled accidental.
After this latest tragedy, locals started giving Pruitt’s grave a wide berth. No longer an object of fascination, it was now viewed as a cursed site that would bring death to anyone who dared show even a hint of disrespect.
One exceptionally brave, or foolish, resident, take your pick, named Arthur Lewis refused to buy into the idea that a man who was almost a year in the grave was behind the rash of premature deaths. He told anyone who would listen that Pruitt was as dead as a doornail and therefore posed no danger to him or anyone else. To prove his point, he had ventured into the cemetery one evening at sunset, hammer and chisel in hand.
At least a dozen residents of the houses that sat across from the cemetery asserted that they heard a loud pounding that evening coming from the direction of Pruitt’s burial site. After a few minutes, they claimed that the hammering was replaced by a man’s screams.
Armed with lanterns to light the way, the neighbors had banded together to investigate. When they reached Pruitt’s grave, they found Arthur Lewis lying prone on the ground, the chain used to secure the cemetery entrance in the after-hours wrapped around his neck. Though they had all heard him chipping away at the headstone, it was clear that his efforts had been for naught. The marker was as pristine as the day it was erected.
Fed up with the goings-on, the townspeople had taken matters into their own hands. Taking a proactive approach, they arranged to have their loved ones exhumed and relocated to other cemeteries. Although it had taken considerable time and effort, not to mention a pretty penny, the bodies were eventually moved to more desirable locales. All, that is, except for one.
Carl Pruitt, aka the “Chain Killer,” would be the old cemetery’s sole occupant until 1958 when the land was sold to a mining company. By the time they were finished extracting the precious minerals from the site, there was nothing left. What became of the infamous killer’s body is unknown. Perhaps his relatives quietly moved his remains to an unmarked grave where it would never be found. It’s also possible that they had washed their hands of him by then, leaving him, and his precious gravestone, to be tilled by machinery and swallowed up by earth movers.
Wherever he ended up, on this side at least, he never hurt anyone again. As far as anyone knows, Arthur Lewis was the final victim of the revenant that had plagued the community for far too long. It was only when he was well and truly alone in the world that Pruitt, a vengeful spirit whom many believed preyed upon the living, finally accepted his lot and moved on to the purgatory that awaited him in the hereafter.
For more stories of true crime and the unexplained, please check out my books at amazon.com/author/cindyparmiter.
Resources:
·completely-kentucky.fandom.com
·facebook.com
·cvltnation.com
·theassay.com
·1428elm.com
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