Meanwhile, out in the pumpkin patch jubilation quickly turned to murderous lust as the king was forced to watch the mutilation and dismemberment of his loyal followers. Eyes and tongues were cut out for souvenirs. Their blood and bone seeped into the ground, deep into the roots of the king’s sacred pumpkin patch. Yet, each disciple was eerily calm and serene, accepting their fate with nothing more than tears of blood that trickled from their eyes.

Then the time came for King Sirus’ to meet his torturous fate.

The King, rebellious to the bitter end, taunted Argus once again, fueling his dark anger. “You ignorant fool!” he spat. “Your entire life has been filled with nothing but failure. You failed to kill me when you had the chance years ago when I was a mere child.  You failed to protect your one true love, and now you fail to avenge your loss,” he gloated. Striking a nerve, Argus unsheathed his sword and advanced upon Sirus. Instead of running him through, he paused and with all his might drove it deep into the ground at the King’s feet. Looking at the King with disgust, Argus turned back to leave. Argus mounted his horse and turned toward Sirus to say, “I will not free your lost soul Sirus,” and kicked his steed into a gallop leaving the King and his pumpkin patch. King Sirus shouted to Argus, “Now you will live in eternal darkness by witnessing the evil you have unleashed onto the world.”

Back at the King’s castle in his high chamber, Sirus’ blood finally reached the center of the Unholy Trinity symbol and erupted into a fiery inferno, an indication that the instructions for the resurrection had now been completed and the 13th Prophecy had begun. As the blood in the chamber began to ignite, King Sirus’ eyes glowed, then rolled over white. His entrails were spilled onto the ground, but he as calm as he began to chant in an unknown tongue:

"This blood you spill on cursed ground now unlocks the gates of hell!
My sacrifice will germinate the anguish that you seek to quell.
Bare witness now to my coming, for it is our day of reckoning.
Release my soul, and fan the flames of hells eternal suffering."

Soon, all who remained in the pumpkin patch were repeating the hex, but their words were lost amongst the fervor of death and dismemberment that enveloped the crowd. A deadly fog of pure evil rolled through the valley and, unable to distinguish the virtuous from the vicious, it infected all those who were gathered. Thunder rumbled, oceans tossed, and lightning split the sky as darkness fell upon them like an iron blanket. The crowd was sobered. They turned their attention to an enormous fiery-orange object, glowing with delight on the hills above them. A pumpkin! Its skin was heaving and undulating as though breathing, when suddenly a scorching wind swept through the valley, igniting thirteen pumpkins that glowed with the sinister faces of men. Vicious mouths grinned with terror ... fires of pure evil burned in their bellies, a single drop of blood glistening in their carved eyes. Another wind swept through the valley, extinguishing the fire, and as the smoke from the flames rose, the men were consumed in hell’s retribution. Their agony lasted for days, but the suffering of man continues until eternity...