Halloween is still two months out, and the horror calendar between now and October 31 is already stacked deeper than most full years.

Between the return of Resident Evil, a long-awaited reunion with the Owens sisters, a new zombie nightmare from the director of Train to Busan, giant creatures, killer spiders, and DC Studios taking a genuinely nasty swing at body horror, September and October have a lot waiting for horror fans.

Our Summer 2026 Horror Watchlist got you through August. This is what comes next.

Some of these are going to be enormous. Others are the ones you’ll be texting people about at 1 a.m. Here are the 10 horror movies arriving before Halloween 2026 that should be on your radar.

1. Colony — August 28

2. Onslaught — September 4

3. Hope — September 9

4. Practical Magic 2 — September 10

5. Resident Evil — September 18

6. Beware Boiúna — October 2

7. Other Mommy — October 9 (from the book Incidents Around the House - https://lemmy.world/post/44310444)

8. Crawlers — October 16

9. Clayface — October 23

10. Stiletto — October 30

The V/H/S franchise will be tackling the SCP Foundation with V/H/S: SCP in the near future, but that’s not actually the next installment in Shudder’s found footage franchise.

Variety announces this morning that V/H/S/MIXTAPE will premiere October 9, 2026!

Directors for the music-themed V/H/S/MIXTAPE include Ernest Dickerson (Demon Knight), Flying Lotus (Ash), Ghost’s Tobias Forge, David Moreau (MadS), RZA and Renee Zhan, with the film featuring GWAR and effects from Jim Henson’s Creature Shop.

Shudder previews, “V/H/S/MIXTAPE cranks the signature found-footage horror up to eleven with an electrifying new anthology where music and sound become the source of terror. United by a theme that explores the power of music, rhythm, and audio to haunt, possess, and destroy, the film blends cosmic horror, psychological suspense, outrageous splatter, and groundbreaking practical effects into one unforgettable mixtape of nightmares.” (...)

The actress was phenomenal, and I think it sort of worked well that she wasn't that conventionally attractive; I feel like that gave more room for experimentation and not just being like some Barbie-/doll-like figure. She exhibited so many different aspects of personality and character and even charm while obsessed. I'm kind of annoyed that people aren't talking about the stellar acting jobs that everyone did. I was super-amused by her pouting face at the party, haha.

::: spoiler One could even tell that Ian ... had his own, ambiguously sinister agenda while still posing as Bear's wingman; it was portrayed very convincingly. :::

The actor for Baron was awesome, too. His personality actually reminded me of a more basic, selfish, inattentive version of Hugh in The Boys. There was never a moment in which the two leads' reactions did not look authentic.

And wow, the camera angles; it was really cool to see so much achieved in totally fixed camera angles early on. I particularly dug the restaurant scene when he gets up to take a call. They really put their gimbals to work!

::: spoiler My suspension of disbelief was when they switched Sarah to a prop too early; you could already tell from the first smash that her face suddenly became too flat already, not enough to merit from just one hit lol. It sort of made me think of Terminator, when we saw his robotic face for the first time, ha (though of course that was from a totally different era). :::

::: spoiler I think my only confusion was Bear trying to off himself; I would have thought he would just try to take her out after witnessing her rampage. So ultimately he really was that obsessed with her in being so enabling to the point of lowering himself that much in the end as to prioritize her life over his (and, frankly, really taking a gamble on the OWW protocol! It worked, though).

Also, I don't understand what exactly was going on with her urinating while standing; does anyone have an explanation for that? I almost thought she was animalistically marking territory or something, or maybe the dir was just trying to portray her as wanting to stay there the entire time until he returned, even to the point of ignoring the restroom.

Oh, lastly, where did she get the revolver? I remember someone mentioning something about having a revolver somewhere, but I don't remember Bear being the one to say so, or am I recalling incorrectly? :::

In this episode of the No Film School Podcast, GG Hawkins speaks with production designer Vivian Gray about building the visual world of Obsession, from Southern Gothic references and texture-heavy interiors to practical blood gags and micro-budget problem-solving.

They discuss what a production designer actually does, how Gray collaborated with the director, cinematographer, costume designer, and art team, and why color, texture, aging, and window treatments can make a major difference on an indie horror film.

In this episode, we discuss:

• What a production designer does and how the role shapes the visual world of a film
• How Vivian Gray landed the job on Obsession through a recommendation and visual pitch deck
• Building the film’s Southern Gothic and Midwestern Gothic-inspired visual language
• Why production designers should come onto a project as early as possible
• Collaborating with cinematography, costumes, props, set decoration, lighting, and graphic design
• How a small indie crew used hands-on collaboration to make the film’s world feel cohesive
• Designing horror environments through texture, color, maximalism, and unease
• Practical lessons from blood gags, aging props, window treatments, and set dressing
• The highest-impact production design choices for micro-budget filmmakers
• Vivian’s advice for aspiring production designers

Lionsgate officially announced today that the next installment in the Blair Witch Project franchise will arrive in theaters on September 24, 2027, marking the fourth film in the iconic horror series and the latest attempt to revive one of the most influential horror properties of all time.

2026 horror is not done with us yet. After a stacked first half that delivered festival breakouts, franchise swings, original nightmares, and plenty of box office heat, the year still has a surprisingly loaded back half waiting in the wings. Even beyond the titles that made this list, releases like Rob Savage‘s Other Mommy, Eli Roth‘s Ice Cream Man, and the nasty-looking Pinocchio: Unstrung from the Twisted Childhood Universe are all proving there’s still plenty of juice left in this release year.

That’s what makes ranking the year’s remaining horror slate so tricky. We’re not just looking at the biggest names or safest bets, but the movies with the strongest mix of pedigree, premise, and potential to cut through the noise. From studio tentpoles to auteur-driven festival favorites, here are Dread Central’s Top 10 horror movies still coming in 2026.

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.today/post/47962409

One of the hottest comics on the market is Image’s Exquisite Corpses, a brutal, hardcore slasher series centered on a deadly game played every five years on Halloween, when the wealthiest families in America unleash twelve of the world’s most dangerous killers on an unsuspecting town.

It will next be adapted for the big screen, thanks to Lyrical Media and James Tynion IV’s Tiny Onion, who jointly announced today the development of two horror films, marking a new phase of their growing partnership.

Not sure if he's reading way more into it than the writer/director intended, but it's a cool take anyway. Sorry for the political element, not sure if it's appropriate here

Filmmaker Rushabh Patel will debut his horror comedy I Know Exactly How You Die at Dances With Films NYC, where the film will have its world premiere on January 17, 2026. The screening will take place at Regal Union Square as part of the festival’s New York lineup.

Patel stars as Rian Burman, a struggling horror novelist battling writer’s block who retreats to a remote motel to finish his latest book. His story follows Katie, a drug counselor attempting to escape a violent stalker. As Rian writes, the events on the page begin to align with real-world incidents, blurring the line between fiction and reality. Unbeknownst to Rian at first, a real woman named Katie is staying at the same motel, hiding from a former mailman turned serial killer. When their paths cross, it becomes clear that Rian’s manuscript may be driving the violent events around them. As the situation escalates, Rian is forced to confront the possibility that his creative process is directly tied to the danger unfolding.

Dark Sanctum, created and directed by Mark Ramsey (Inside JAWS, Inside the Exorcist), premiered December 4 and delivers weekly standalone stories inspired by classics such as The Twilight Zone and Tales from the Crypt.

https://art19.com/shows/dark-sanctum/episodes/194ea633-7174-406c-9a76-effb20c63972

rss - https://rss.art19.com/dark-sanctum

The upcoming movie brings the iconic horror franchise back to the big screen. When James receives a mysterious letter from his lost love, Mary, he is drawn to Silent Hill—a once-familiar town now consumed by darkness. As he searches for her, James faces monstrous creatures and unravels a terrifying truth that will push him to the edge of his sanity.

Jeremy Irvine is James, alongside Hannah Emily Anderson as Mary Crane.

Also starring in Return to Silent Hill? Evie Templeton (Wednesday), reprising her role as Laura; Templeton previously provided the voice and motion capture for Laura in Bloober Team’s Silent Hill 2 remake.

Christophe Gans, who also directed the 2006 feature film adaptation of Silent Hill, wrote the script for the new movie alongside Sandra Vo-Anh and William Josef Schneider.

Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAED2LBIJMQ

Excerpt:

"God is cruel. Sometimes he makes you live.", Stephen King

PLINK!

The sharp noise echoing through the alley pulled me back to reality. I was still far away, but just seeing the door, lonely at the end of the corridor, lit only by a broken LED strip that occasionally sparked, gave me goosebumps. The rain had started, and I was still there, hesitant. I took my backpack off my shoulders, my hands soaked and trembling with cold, struggling to free the umbrella. Again, I heard the same sound; it was a drip from a leak in the building next door. The rusty sheet formed a sort of slide that dropped those small, pointed, cold drops into the empty metal of the trash can.

PLINK!

PLINK!

PLINK!

A little over a week ago, I was finishing my shift; an ordinary day, somewhat tiring, but nothing notable in a hospital setting. Just as I was about to grab my backpack and leave, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Diana, we need to talk." It was my boss, damn it.

We didn't get along much; I usually chose the early morning shifts... or, as everyone here calls it, "the fucked-up shift." It's only for those who need urgent money and are willing to sacrifice their sleep and mental health for a mere fifteen dollars an hour.

My boss had his face fixed on me; his wart moved as his mouth did; it was hypnotic, to be honest. He pulled a sheet from a large, faded folder and started signing it; then he bent down to reach a drawer and pulled out a checkbook, signing the check again.

"I'm very sorry, but we have more staff than needed. You're fired; here is your severance. I wish you the best."

I didn't know what to say, just nodded and headed to my car. I threw my backpack on the back seat; the metal handle of the umbrella clanged against the car door. I hit my head on the steering wheel and sobbed, my fingers digging into my scalp.

What am I going to do?

My sister... she, she wasn't well.

Since childhood, she had been severely ill, sick with something complex that weakens her every day.

I can count on my fingers the times I saw my sister full of life. We spent years with the hospital as our second home, and when she turned twelve, she had to be hospitalized indefinitely.

Since I turned legal age, I took nursing courses and passed with great effort and dark circles under my eyes. Right after that, I got a minimum wage job, but it was better than nothing. I had to help my parents with my sister's hospital fees. After my unfortunate dismissal, I wandered the city's job market available for nurses, but I thought my path was over, or so I believed.

In my last interview (or attempt), I saw a man watching me from afar; he wore a black hat and a brown trench coat. Obviously, I kept my distance, but somehow, he shortened the path and saw me leaving the Metropolitan Hospital. He just handed me a small sheet and left into the night.

The sheet only had an address, which is where I am now, and the phrase: "Here, you will never worry about money again."

And here I am: in the wolf's mouth. I took a breath and exhaled. I walked slowly to the door, the echoes of the dripping still sounding; I knocked on the door with a rhythm, connecting the drip's melody with the knock of my fist.

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

Nothing happened, no movement. The door was steel, gray, with a small old grate. I waited who knows how long there; when I finally turned around, I heard the heavy hinge of the grate opening.

"Welcome. Your interview starts now," a heavy voice responded from the other side.

I swallowed.

The screech deafened the entire alley; it was clear the place urgently needed maintenance. The friction of the door against the floor sent chills down my spine. The first details I saw inside were a kind of dull green offices, a green mixed with brown that conveyed monotony, lit by the classic white lights you find in any hospital.

The common area dazzled me: spacious but messy; only a few chairs placed without much care and an old TV broadcasting a soap opera. Across were the metal stretchers, placed against each other and against the wall, with mattresses covered in blue surgical fabric. Several had little tables with jars and all medical equipment in open drawers. A couple of patients lay motionless; I had to look twice to make sure they weren’t mannequins. Only one muttered. I tried to approach to check his status, but the man who opened the door pointed to a door at the end of the building.

"Follow me." His voice was warmer this time.

He took a key from his pocket, turned it twice, pushed hard, and with a shoulder shove, the door opened. He rubbed his shoulder to ease the pain and raised his hand toward a chair in the office.

"Take a seat, Diana, I'll soon give you your contract."

He pulled from under his desk a yellowed file. It was my dismissal over and over. The world has that sense of humor.

I started reading it over and over; there were terms I didn't understand. I opened it.

At first, it was no different from any other work contract, but as I read, safety warnings, confidentiality clauses, and unorthodox security measures stood out. There were fragments I didn't understand; terms like "captive guard," "revitalizing therapy," and "irreversible process" kept popping up.

The man stared at me desperately, his foot tapping the metal desk. I had a headache. What had I gotten into? I couldn't just quit; I had to commit to this job, if it could be called that.

He continued tapping his foot against the desk leg.

CLANK!

CLANK!

CLANK!

"Any problem, miss? I'm here to serve you."

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be signing. What would I do here?"

The boss adjusted his shirt, rested his arms on his chin, and leaned over the desk, coming closer to me. A cold electric line ran through my body.

He opened the folder, spreading papers all over the desk.

"Look, miss, your role here won't be very different from your past nursing experiences. Take care of patients, do your shifts, the usual. But..."

He took a sip of his coffee.

"We're a privately founded clinic, and our interests are those of the sponsor. Your mission is to explore the effects of certain medicines or drugs not yet released to the public; you will be in charge of seeing how far the patients can go."

I was stunned. Once I signed, I'd become a walking reaper, only lurking around the poor souls trapped here, counting their days until death. I was going to get out of here, damn it; if I couldn't be a nurse with dignity, I'd try something else: a call center, a teacher, fast food worker. Anything but this madness.

I got up immediately; when I was about to push the heavy door, a sound stopped me.

"Twenty thousand."

I turned quickly; my fingertips slowly released the handle.

If what I thought was true, I couldn't afford my righteous morality to make me lose so much money. My sister needed it. I still held hope she'd recover and we'd travel the Caribbean together, just the two of us after so long.

"Excuse me?"

"Twenty thousand dollars a month. Much more than your sister needs; enough to pay for her treatment with a top specialist. Diana, trust me, your little María will be safe."

"How do you know my sister's name is María?"

"Believe me, I know more than you could understand. Now, are you in?" he said as he shook my hand.

I still wonder how my hand shook his so fast; it was rough, like a file; it even scraped me. He squeezed firmly, not letting me reconsider. When I saw his eyes, I knew; this job tied me to him, I'd dug my grave myself. Great.

He asked me to wait in a small room next to his office while he prepared his instruments. I didn't want to sit; I was nauseous now; just seeing the putrid green of the place made me want to run, but I couldn't, so I settled for looking around.

The ceiling lights flickered irregularly, making the place even more eerie if that was possible. Suddenly, from the stretchers I'd seen at the entrance, a muffled scream sounded, like someone shouting but being silenced. Then a sharp thud.

My new boss came out of his office as if nothing had happened. He wore a folder, an ID, and a mint green clinical uniform.

"Damn, that's a lot of paperwork noise."

My boss responded as if it was any other Sunday and took another sip of his coffee.

I turned pretending not to have heard anything. I didn't want to get into another conversation with that guy. He walked to me and handed me the plastic folder and ID, along with a wrinkled uniform in a half-torn plastic bag.

"Congratulations, Diana, you start tomorrow. Be here before six. And..." —he paused briefly— "due to staff shortage, you'll have night duty. You'll be accompanying one of our longest-serving employees; he'll guide you through everything you need. Rest well; you'll need it."

He patted me on the back, and I swear, I was a second away from slapping it away, but I had to stop.

The rain had returned when I left. I walked several blocks, nearly getting run over several times, until I found a taxi, contract safely in my bag.

The temptation to tell the driver I wanted to go to another city and start over was stupidly real.

But every time I thought about it, I saw María suffering. And I could do nothing but do everything I could for her, even if that meant working in this dump. I just got to bed and collapsed.

The next day, I arrived ten minutes before six. The building looked even more sinister under the autumn fog; the same broken LED strip crackled just like the first time; it was a captivating sight, I must admit. I knocked twice on the metal door before the grate opened. This time it wasn't the boss who received me but what I supposed was the guard, who opened the door. He wore a khaki uniform, a faded plastic tag, and a revolver hanging from his belt.

"Come in," he said without looking up.

Inside, the light was brighter than the previous night; I guessed the morning shift was so tired the light burned. I barely took a step when the smell hit me immediately.

My eyes began to water, and my stomach churned: sulfur, moisture, something like unrefrigerated meat, and something sweet; the cherry on top. I covered my mouth expecting to gag but never did; I guess that's the advantage of not having breakfast. Passing the receiver, a thin nurse with deep dark circles and a red and yellow stained gown greeted me. I didn't want to ask.

"You're with me today; don't touch anything unless I say so. Don't talk to anyone unless strictly necessary; you're not here to make friends. Meléndez, you're here to record and store data, nothing else. Understood?"

I just gave a stupid look and nodded.

We began my tour down a narrow corridor where the doors, submarine-like, also metallic, slightly rusty, with circular windows that let us see the patients inside were numbered, with mysterious nomenclatures I didn't understand. I was going to ask my superior, but he seemed impatient. At one window, I saw a patient tied to a stretcher, chest heaving, his gown soaked with sweat, several syringes inserted in his skin.

The doctors just took notes and kept administering fluid.

"Don't ask, trust me," Ricardo muttered, noticing my stare.

In another room, two doctors injected a nearly glowing green liquid into a dosing machine connected to an unconscious patient. The machine monitoring vital signs beeped irregularly: long, short, total silence, over and over.

Ricardo stopped at the window and made a clock-like gesture with his hand; a doctor inside raised five fingers. As we advanced, I heard sobbing from the last door in the hall. Ricardo gently pushed me to keep walking.

Finally, we reached a common room with barely two free stretchers. On one lay a middle-aged man, extremely thin, eyes open but expressionless. A monitor showed irregular but constant heartbeats. The intravenous drip's falling drops were the only reminder this was no nightmare.

"You'll watch this patient as part of your shift. He doesn’t need food. Just make sure vital signs remain steady and the drip doesn’t stop; if you see anything strange, note it first and then tell me." —he pointed to a transparent bag with viscous amber fluid— "If it empties, call me immediately."

When he left, I was alone with the man under the greenish light. He blinked slowly, took my almost skeletal hand and held my forearm. I barely heard his whisper with his barely left strength.

"Help me..."

I froze. The sound of the drip hitting his arm seemed like a pacemaker. Like a ticking clock demanding I act quickly, pushing me to help this poor man I had to care for. But what if I got fired for helping him?

"Help me..." he repeated.

I didn't know if the voice was real or just my mind playing tricks; let's say stress, despair, hunger, and lack of sleep are a bad combo, and hallucinations wouldn’t be far-fetched. My brain screamed I shouldn't touch or do anything; I had signed a contract to only watch and record, nothing more. But why the hell did my heart tell me otherwise?

I had to focus. But his face, almost skeletal, stained and dehydrated, reminded me of when my sister had one of her attacks. Both were inside a cocoon with no near escape; they could only see the world without the world noticing them.

My foot started moving side to side; I looked at the drip. The amber liquid fell slowly, and he began to shake and grimace in pain like being poked.

"It’s not your problem, Diana. Calm down, finish your shift, gather enough money, and you and María will be far from here soon." I tried to repeat it, but another part of me seemed to want to silence that thought.

A sea of cold sweat poured over me; I even started shaking. I felt my breathing quicken, suffocating. The voice that silenced my plan to do nothing whispered firmly, "Do you really want to carry someone’s death on your shoulders?"

With a quick move, I closed the drip valve.

The flow stopped gradually until no drop remained in the tube. At first, nothing happened; he stayed as hurt and weak. Slowly, his vital signs improved; his breathing resumed, and his eyes finally opened. They looked into my soul; I feared what would come next. I was scared, but he smiled at me. I left the room for fresh air, or at least to not be trapped there with my thoughts longer.

I did the right thing, didn’t I, María?

I walked to the bathroom at the end of the hall. The echo of my steps mixed with the ticks of all the machines. It seemed like the lamps followed me, burning my eyes and making me dizzy.

Inside the bathroom, the mirror, stained white, and the chemical smell burned my nose, but it was better than being in there. I washed my hands slowly and then sat in a corner; I tried not to cry then and there.

That’s when I heard it.

A guttural scream from the ward. Then a thud like a wet cloth falling from a table. That thing was dragging itself, and right after, a vital signs monitor fell to the floor.

I froze.

I headed to the entrance where the guards were supposed to be, where I saw the guard who had let me in that morning walking around; they had to be there. But they weren't. The security desk was empty, with half-drunk cold coffee cups and a pair of dented beer cans on the floor, piled between their chairs.

"Hello!?" I screamed, but my voice barely escaped my body. I looked around, thinking they might be wandering the building, but again, nothing. It would be too easy for me, and if I’ve learned anything in my short time here, it’s that nothing will be easy..."

–Read more in its original Castilian language at https://fictograma.com/ , an open source Spanish community of writers–

Excerpt:

Ecstasy—that’s what it is, ecstasy. I don’t remember anything clearly; I had never felt anything like it. It’s a state of absolute, indescribable pleasure. What happened was a unique experience. I remember I wasn’t that drunk, yet I still couldn’t walk—I could only hear my heartbeat. I remember her blurred image above me; the sensations running through my body aren’t clear, yet it was pure pleasure. The confusion scares me, but not enough. It felt as if the universe was part of me, yet I belonged to nothing. It happened a while ago, and the effect still hasn’t worn off; it’s like being high.

...

--Read more in its original language, Castilian, at fictograma.com, an open source Spanish community of writers--

In ‘Rabbit Trap,’ we see a musician named Daphne Davenport (Rosy McEwen) and her husband Darcy (Dev Patel) venture out of the city and into remote Wales as she builds her next album around nature. As we can tell by her reserve and his nightmares, they seem to be taking with them some emotional distress. There’s something not being discussed. But when it comes to making music, this setting will do it. It has to.

If you’re expecting scares, you won’t find them here. What ensues is less folk horror and more of an abstract meditation on trauma. It’s not about rediscovering some creative spark, not really. Instead, it’s about what it means to mine for something deeper: reconnecting the body with the mind, with the earth and, yes, with the soul.

This dark destination for Bryn Chainey’s film works in concert with how idyllic this creative retreat feels at first. Darcy ventures out each day to capture field recordings of nature: wind, water dripping into a bucket, a flock of birds in flight. On a quiet morning, Darcy asks Daphne what’s wrong. She responds, “Don’t you ever want to dissolve? Just melt into the earth.” They seem to do exactly that in front of Chainey’s lens. The production is lush and green, swoonily captured by director of photography Andreas Johannessen. Costumed in earth tones, human bodies seem to fade into their environment. Wide shots swallow those bodies up into the frame, overflowing with trees and wild bushes. It’s so beautiful. But something’s wrong. ...

Trailer - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vj7UAYV6ihs

https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/rabbit_trap

From the director of Lowlife and V/H/S/94, Ryan Prows’ vampire cop thriller Night Patrol is coming to theaters early next year, and the official trailer has arrived this morning.

WWE Superstar Phil Brooks (aka CM Punk) stars alongside Justin Long (Tusk, Barbarian, Coyotes) in the upcoming Night Patrol. Sink your fangs into the trailer down below.

Night Patrol will release in theaters on January 16, 2026.

In the vampire cop horror movie, “An LAPD officer must put aside his differences with the area’s street gangs when he discovers a local police task force is harboring a horrific secret that endangers the residents of the housing projects he grew up in.”

trailer - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmX5HwLIP4E

New Kojima Productions just dropped!

Looks like they’re bringing back the spirit of Silent Hills P.T.