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Summerwind Mansion | The Grave Talks Preview

by cnkguy
Summerwind Mansion | The Grave Talks Preview

There mere mention of the name Summerwind Mansion is instantly connected to the word haunted when discussed in the state of Wisconsin. The haunted Summerwind Mansion has a story spanning more than a century. Its story runs deep through many families, rumors of insanity, demonic activity, and ghosts. The haunted Summerwind Mansion is infamous no so much for who lived there, but for why many couldn't live there.

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, Real Ghost Stories

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I’ve Had the Same Dream for 26 Years

by cnkguy
I’ve Had the Same Dream for 26 Years

I've Had the Same Dream for 26 Years"Reading Time: 8 minutes

The things that haunt a man the most, are not usually the choices that he’s made, but rather the choices that he never did make.

I’ve lived through some of the worst hells that you could ever imagine. 9,490 of them to be exact. Every night when I lay down to sleep, I find myself praying for the same thing; sleep, with the absence of dreams.

Every night is exactly the same.

This trend started 26 years ago when I was 10. The first time that the nightmare overtook my dreams, I had come home from the worst day of my life. My dad had taken me to a splash park. It wasn’t much, just a couple water jets that shot up into the air that kids could run around under and cool off from the heat.

We were poor growing up and never could afford to go to any big water parks, but the splash pad was always fun. That is, until that day.

I remember running around under the jets, carefree, enjoying the sweet relief that the cool water brought as it splashed on my red skin. There were a couple of other kids there too but, I didn’t pay them much attention as I was always a bit of a loner even as a child.

“Kyle, come on buddy, it’s time to go.” I heard my dad say from the bench that sat across the way. “Aww, come on Dad, just a little longer.” I pleaded, not noticing the little girl that was making her way toward me from the other side of the pad.

“Five more minutes,” he replied shaking his head and smiling.

As I turned back toward the water jet, happy for the extra time to play, I was met with a little girl standing, not even a foot away from me. My heart felt as though it was going to jump out of my chest as I noticed her face. It looked decayed, her eyes were sunken back into her skull, they were pure white, and her mouth was wide open.

She stood there gazing at me inches away, mouth hanging open, for what seemed like hours. I couldn’t move, I was frozen at the sight of this hideous girl. After a while of this, I finally regained my ability to speak and said, in a shaky voice, “H..hi, I’m Kyle, what’s your name?” The girl turned her head to the side, like a dog does when he’s trying to understand what you’re saying to him.

“Whhhhhaaaaaaahhh.” she let out a long gasp in response. Her breath hit my face; it smelled like smoke and burnt hair. It wasn’t until I stopped choking that I realized she had burns all over her arms and legs. Long singe marks going up the sides, from foot to waist. The skin was hanging off from several places.

I turned in fear back toward my dad, hoping that he would see the girl and come rescue me, but he was chatting with another kid’s mom on the bench, not even looking in my direction.

As I turned back to face the little girl, she was gone.

I ran hard and fast to where my dad was sitting. “Hey buddy, you finally ready to go?” he said smiling, but his facial expression quickly changed as I got close to him. “What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, concern now mixed into his tone.

“The girl over by the pad.” I replied through heavy breaths. “She’s hurt, or burned, or I don’t know.”

Looking over my shoulder to the pad, my dad asked, “What girl? I don’t see anyone, Kyle. Let’s go home, I think you’ve just had too much sun today.”

I didn’t argue – maybe I had just imagined it.

We walked back to the car. Dad was talking to me, but I didn’t hear anything he was saying. I was too preoccupied looking over my shoulder, back toward the pad, searching for the little girl. My dad basically had to push me back to keep me from walking straight into the car door as he held it open for me.

“Whoa champ, watch where you’re going. I can’t afford a hospital visit if you bust your noggin open on the car door. We will come back to play another day, I promise.”

The car ride home seemed much longer than usual. My mind was still thinking about the little girl. Where had she come from? Surely her parents would be looking for her to get her wounds patched up.

As my dad and I pulled into the driveway, I could see my mom coming out to greet us. “He’s a little shook up, too much sun I think. Better get him inside and cool him off.” I could hear my dad tell her after their usual welcome home kiss and hug.

After we ate dinner, Mom came up to my room as I was getting ready for bed. She closed the door, which was strange considering she normally came in, picked up my dirty clothes, and gave me a hug and kiss goodnight.

There was something strange about her facial expression, something different about her tone of voice as she said:

“Your dad told me about the splash pad. What did you see?”

A little reluctantly, I recounted the events, not leaving out any detail. Mom just sat on my bed listening, her new expression never changing as I concluded the story.

“There is something you need to know Kyle, but this stays between you and me. I don’t want your father knowing about this.” she said while I looked nervously at her.

My parents were always the perfect couple – even through hard times, they always loved each other. They never fought or had harsh words between them, so the thought of her keeping anything from Dad seemed odd to me, and I didn’t really like the idea of it.

“We come from a long line of mediums,” she stopped as if trying to really think of the right way to explain.

“What you saw was an omen. Not a particularly bad one, since the girl didn’t touch you and she disappeared. Still,you need to be aware of a few things.” Her eyes started to water as she continued.

“These kind of omens are never good. In this case, I believe that the little girl was killed in a fire, and she came to you because you’re like a magnet to the spirits that still walk the earth.”

I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea what she was talking about. I thought that ghosts were just make believe, and now she was telling me that I attract them?

Finally, after staring at her for a while in disbelief, I asked, “Are you a medium?”

She laughed, confusing me for a second, before she replied with a big smile. “Oh heavens no baby, I’m not a medium. Do you really think that I could kept that a secret from your father all these years? No, your grandmother, my mom, was a medium.”

“So what does this mean for me?” I asked.

“It means that things are going to start happening around you. Lights flickering, shadows in your room moving at night, waking up to voices talking to you, premonitions, and dreams.”

There it was; dreams, the very thing that would plague me every night for the next 26 years. I never did see any ghosts or any of the other weird things that my mom spoke of. Just the dreams.

After our talk, mom left my room, leaving me scared and confused about all of the new information she had just off-loaded onto me. I laid down and turned out my lamp. I lay awake for a long time, spooked, rapidly looking around my room, searching for anything out of the ordinary when sleep finally took me.

The first thing I saw was a building on fire. It was a large two story house at the end of a cul de sac. The mailbox read 322 James St. There were fire trucks with ladders and firefighters pointing hoses toward the inferno, trying to extinguish the flame. I became a little disoriented from all the lights of the sirens. It was dark outside, and besides the fire that engulfed the house, the only lights were from the emergency vehicles, and they were blinding.

I stumbled a little, and as I looked down toward the ground to regain my bearings, I realized that I was wearing firefighting equipment. I reached my hand up and felt the helmet on my head.

I could hear someone shouting something from behind me. I turned back around to see who it was, nearly hitting another firefighter with the axe I had in my hand. I hadn’t even realized I was carrying it until that moment.

A man standing by a red SUV with the words ‘Fire Chief’ on the side was looking right at me.

“Kyle, Go!” he shouted pointing at the blazing house. I didn’t know what I was doing, but at the same time it felt like I had done this before, a hundred times over.

I turned back to the house, running full speed toward the flames. Even with my protective gear on, I could feel the extreme heat radiating from the blaze. I then heard someone’s voice come over the radio.

“Parents say there is a little girl trapped in the second story bathroom.” Without hesitation, I responded “10-4 I’m making entry now, keep on my six and stay sharp, watch for falling debris. This kid is not dying on my watch.”

Me and two other firefighters made our way into the house. The black smoke that billowed in front of me almost blacked out the hallway we were travelling down; I could hardly see ten feet ahead. We pushed forward with the hose slung over our shoulders.

“There’s the stairs!” I yelled, pointing to my right as we continued down the hallway.

The stairs were not yet on fire, save for a few burning embers that had fallen from the top floor. I made my way up, tapping on each step with my Halligan bar to make sure they were stable. The climb was slow and the hose was heavy.

Once we got to the top landing, I could see flames engulfing the sides of the walls and roof going down the second story hallway. The heat was almost too much to bear. We made our way to the first door on the right, touching it to feel for heat. If there was fire on the other side of the door and we opened it, it could cause an explosion, potentially killing us all.

After determining that there was no fire on the other side, I began to scream, “Holly! Holly, are you here!?” No answer. I don’t know how I knew what name to call, it just came to me.

I tried the knob and it was locked. “If you’re in here, stand away from the door, I’m going to break it down.” I yelled before swinging my axe at the door. It took three swings before it opened. As I stepped into the bathroom, I heard a loud crash from behind me; it shook the entire house. Looking back, I could see that part of the roof had caved in, blocking the hallway to the stairs.

Frantically, I searched for the girl. She was sitting in the tub, unconscious.

Another crash, this time causing an explosion in the hallway, blowing out the window at the end. I could hear the glass shatter and feel the pressure from the blast.

“Get the girl, we have to get out of here!” I could hear someone say on my radio.

I reached down, picking her up and cradling her against my chest. As I turned back to leave, the other two firefighters were using the hose to put out the fire from the fallen beam so that we would have a safe path to leave from. Slowly, testing every step, we made our way back down the hallway, the flames becoming more violent, and the heat growing more intense with each passing moment.

Just as I made it to the stairs, one of the other firefighters pushed past, almost knocking me off my feet as he ran by, flying down the stairs in fear.

“Fuck!” I cursed as I slammed into the wall, flinging the legs of the little girl into the fire. I could hear her skin sizzle in the flames. As I began to regain my balance, I saw why the other man had fled. The main beam in the roof was falling right toward me. With a loud crash it pinned me to the ground, causing me to drop the little girl. She was still unconscious, lying directly in the flames to my right.

My head spinning, I tried to push the beam off of me, but it was no use, It was too heavy. After a few minutes of pushing, I gave up, feeling the flames burning my skin. The fire was beyond control. I was stuck with no hope. My heart was pounding with the thought of the little girl burning to death, as well as my own fiery doom.

I laid there in agony, feeling the flames licking the skin on my hands. I watched as the rest of the burning roof collapsed onto me.

I awoke drenched in sweat, screaming. My mother rushed into my room, fear on her face.

After calming down, I recounted the dream. Her hands covered her mouth and tears streamed down her face as I spoke. She didn’t say anything, she just sat there holding me.

It’s been 26 years to the day since that first dream and every night has been the same since. The same house, same girl, same death.

As I’m sitting here writing this, I can hear the alarm sounding, and a voice just came over the Intercom. Now, I have a hard choice to make.

“10-70 Structure fire, all units respond. 322 James St.”


CREDIT: Allan Loe

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Creepy Pasta

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Don’t Leave Home Competition Winners

by cnkguy
Don’t Leave Home Competition Winners

Don't Leave Home Competition WinnersReading Time: 2 minutes


It’s time to reveal the Don’t Leave Home competition winners!


A couple of weeks ago, we announced a competition hosted by Don’t Leave Home – a chilling new film about a haunted painting (based on an Irish urban legend). The rules were simple. All you had to do was answer a simple question:


Where would you hang your haunted painting?


We received a lot of good answers and we appreciate everyone that took part in the contest. However, we could only pick three winners. Without further ado, here are the winning responses:


From Chris Dusendschon:

“In my bedroom, of course. I hate to sleep alone.”


From Michael Paige:

“All around the house; a torn piece in every room.”


From Vice Seutriv:

“There are some that say that the best paintings are the ones in which you see yourself. 

For this reason it hangs where my bathroom mirror used to be, just above the porcelain sink. I don’t have any need for a mirror anymore. All I want, all I NEED to see, is the painting. And the girl, and the field, and the poppies, where I see myself in every stroke and every gradient. I can see the emotions I have felt for so long, but never quite translate to words, expressed in vivid detail on the hand-stretched barn wood canvas. I can finally see… myself.

I love this painting with all of my soul. 

But I do wish that I didn’t have to keep scrubbing the blood away from the sink every morning. I can’t seem to help myself, but I guess I get so lost in the painting that I don’t notice how I brush my teeth for hours -sometimes all night- the bristles wear my gums to the bone from the repeated motion, over and over. Each day I awake in front of the mirror with dried blood stained down to my waist on my once white sleep shirt, and sometimes I’m missing teeth. I just don’t remember anymore. 

If I don’t get rid of this painting soon, I won’t have any teeth left.

But I can’t.

It’s just so beautiful.”


Each of the winners will receive a poster from the movie, signed by the director (Michael Tully) and the film’s lead actress (Anna Margaret Hollyman). Thanks again to everyone who participated! We hope you’ll join us for our next contest.


Don’t forget, Don’t Leave Home hits select theaters and On Demand TODAY (September 14th)! It’s a frightening film you don’t want to miss. Follow @CrankedUpFilms on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram for more frights to come.


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Creepy Pasta

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neillblomkamp:Hellboy (2004) Directed by Guillermo del Toro

by cnkguy
neillblomkamp:Hellboy (2004) Directed by Guillermo del Toro


Hellboy (2004) Directed by Guillermo del Toro



Creepy gifs

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I Picked the Wrong Profession

by cnkguy
I Picked the Wrong Profession

I Picked The Wrong ProfessionReading Time: 4 minutes

Jobs come and go. That’s part of the beauty of living in America – you can change jobs freely if you aren’t happy. It’s a luxury not everyone in the world has.

For years and years, my life was consumed by business – retail, specifically. It wasn’t my plan…I sort of fell into it. My part-time cashier job turned into a full-time management job and, as anyone who’s worked in retail knows, once you get to that point it’s hard to get out. I wasted about five years at Target until my career path unexpected changed for the better.

It was a chance encounter – fateful, even. She came into the store to return a set of lingerie but our guest services team member wasn’t letting it happen. It was a no-receipt return, and she didn’t have the method of payment or her I.D. with her. Typical scam set-up. As those usually go, she asked to speak with a manager. I have no doubts she caught me mouthing “damn” as I walked up to the front end to speak with her. She was a tan goddess, about 5’3″ with a perfect, Playboy-esque body, brunette hair, and a lip ring. She looked like the type of girl who could post a single cleavage shot on Instagram and become an overnight internet celebrity.

On the surface, she looked like the type that might use her looks to be able to swoon guys into mindlessly doing what she wanted. A little flirting, a slight lean over the counter, and anything she needed was done – regardless of policy.

Well, maybe not just on the surface. I did exactly that.

I couldn’t resist her allure.

I thought about her non-stop for a few days after that. She was visually perfect in every sense of the word. Her body inspired me. I wanted to capture elegance like hers to look at anytime I desired.

Transitioning into a photographer seemed natural after meeting her. It was as if she rewired my brain, causing me to notice the beauty in everything I saw. Every second I wasn’t at work, I was adventuring and capturing the sights of the world surrounding me. Some days I even had to call off because I had let my passions take me too far away to be able to drive back for my shift.

It was…freeing.

Only a couple of months had passed until I ran into my muse at the local Starbucks. She was in front of me, ordering a grande white chocolate mocha – no whipped cream. A delicious drink for a delicious woman, of course. After I ordered the same drink as a venti, I nervously walked down to the end of the counter to wait for my drink…and silently observe her magnificence.

“Hey! Aren’t you the guy from Target that helped me return those undies?!” She spoke to me. I almost died.

“Oh, ha. Yeah, I believe that was me.” I always hated my ugly, nervous laugh.

“You were so awesome!” She said as she gave me a tight hug. “I was able to get a new set because of you, see?”

She pulled down her deep-cut v-neck, revealing to me a lacy, purple bra that hardly covered her voluptuous, tan breasts.

“I’m Jess, by the way. I’ve gotta run but I’m sure I’ll see ya around!”

She wasn’t wrong. We seemed to bump into each other almost daily after that moment at the coffee shop. If it wasn’t a face-to-face encounter, when I would go home and upload my photos she would be in them to some degree. Every. Day. I didn’t mind – she made my photos come to life, enhancing the already spectacular scenes with her own stunning looks.

I’m not sure if she knew I was taking her picture or not. Some days she would appear oblivious, and the photos would come across voyeuristic. Maybe she would be turned away, eating an ice cream cone. Tying her Vans. Fixing up her hair. Just casual things. Other times, she seemed to be staring right at me as I clicked the button. A few times she was putting on a blouse. Another was she putting gas in her white Beetle. Once, she was nude in the forest. Always facing directly towards me. Always staring into my soul.

As guilty as it made me feel, she never took legal action, nor made it seem like she wanted me to stop. To be honest, shewas the one showing up in all of my pictures. She wouldn’t really have had the basis to take up recourse. The longer it went on without any signs of discontent, the less guilty I began to feel. In my mind, it became a game. Two lovers, flirting without ever needing to meet. I was sure we were both in on it, but one of us had to win eventually.

It’s her.

I was out late last night, trying to catch photos of the super moon over train tracks – a truly stunning scene. Pines lined both sides of the tracks, the rock hills were even and undisturbed, and the sky was clear aside from the massive, massive moon. I’ll admit, I went a little crazy with the picture taking and filled up the remaining space on my SD card trying to capture the perfect scene.

She was in the photos.

There was no way Jess was able to have been there. The area was completely void of life while I was capturing it!

She was in the middle of the tracks, entwined with a man.


They began kissing.


He touched her skin, and she wrapped her hands around the back of his head.


He was looking directly at me. His body hadn’t moved.


Jess held his head in her hands, his body was on the ground.


She faced me directly, with that soul-stealing glare.


Dozens of small, white creatures piled over the man’s body. Jess had disappeared.


The creatures and the body were gone.


Jess was sitting indian-style mere feet away from the camera.

I screamed and ran into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet. I couldn’t believe it. There was nobody on the tracks. How could she be in every single picture?! In hopes that I was losing my mind, I drowned myself in cold water from the sink and went to try looking at my gallery again.

The pictures were empty.

My mind and body decided that I couldn’t take this anymore and I had to sleep. I woke up in my chair about an hour ago. The pictures were still void of Jess, the man, and those weird fucking creatures…but she was outside of my window, sitting on my lawn staring directly into my eyes as I looked outside.

I’ve never seen her outside of a photograph since the coffee shop.

She’s gorgeous.


CREDIT: Mikey Knutson

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Creepy Pasta

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The Gray Man Returns

by cnkguy
The Gray Man Returns

In South Carolina, a figure known as the Gray Man appears on the beach before devastating storms. The harbinger spirit normally appears in Pawleys Island, but as Hurricane Florence bears down on the Carolinas, some believe he’s making the rounds to warn residents up and down the coast.

Dating back to 1822, the legend of the Gray Man goes something like this:

A mysterious man in gray appears on the beach – either walking near beachgoers or waving to boaters – before disappearing without a trace. Soon after his appearance, a major storm strikes the area, leaving many people hurt or homeless. Though the area is devastated, those who saw the Gray Man before the dangerous weather survive the storm unscathed.

The Gray Man in Myrtle Beach? 

In July, a family vacationing in Myrtle Beach took pictures from their balcony and were surprised to see a gray figure in one of the images (below

). Was it the Gray Man? Myrtle Beach is 25 miles from Pawleys Island, but perhaps the beach-dwelling spirit traveled north to warn residents about the future hurricane.

Gray Man Reports in Pawleys Island

As Hurricane Florence approaches the Carolinas, residents of Pawleys Island have reported seeing the Gray Man.

Hurricane Hugo was the last serious hurricane to strike Pawleys Island, but Hurricane Florence may soon change that. What do you think of the Gray Man legend? Endearing story or a real-life guardian spirit?



Ghost and Ghouls

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