After a traumatic labor, Saga wakes to the cries of her newborn son in his bassinet on the other side of the room. While most watching will likely pick up on baby Kuura’s negative reaction to sunlight—I couldn’t stop thinking about the pain it would have caused Saga to get up and gather her son herself. The irony of thinking about her struggles is further amplified by the cries and almost animalistic moans and later-described hairy body that are all chalked up as “normal” and that the couple has a perfectly healthy babe. After all, everyone insists that every baby and every pregnancy… is different.

Never graphically violent, [Cat People] is nonetheless shocking, especially in the stalking and pool scenes. Never graphic sexually—not the barest inch of customarily hidden skin is exposed—it’s nonetheless erotic. The heart of the film is the fear of female sexuality, the sense that, if women were to give in to their carefully repressed urges, they would throw society itself into chaos.

Glow, directed by Jane Schoenbrun, was released in 2024, and has built up a not-undeserved reputation as being the modern trans horror film. Its protagonist is Owen, a timid individual with no close relationships, cannot look other people in the eye, and doesn’t appear to be able to understand or articulate his emotions. Owen bonds with an older girl, Maddy (Jack Haven), over a shared love of the fictional TV series The Pink Opaque. The show is mocked and derided by Owen’s abusive, hyper-masculine father as being “for girls,” so Maddy supplies Owen with videotapes of the show to watch in secret.

The knee-jerk synopsis you’re likely to hear most frequently for CAMP is a dreamy, mumblecore version of The Craft. And honestly, that’s a fair place to start. Like that ’90s classic, CAMP does center on a group of teen girls who form a coven, of sorts, and their magic does have real manifestation. Unlike The Craft, though, CAMP doesn’t really have a Fairuza Balk type character that drives a movie-defining wedge into the sisters, CAMP’s coven is one of empowerment and support—for better or worse.

The revenge film is back, baby! Izabel Pakzad’s directorial debut looks to add a new voice to the resurgence of the revenge film with Find Your Friends, a movie about five friends partying in Joshua Tree who find themselves at odds with a group of locals.

If you want to sell me on a movie, you’ve got plenty of options. Folk horror, for sure, will get my attention, but mentioning a mythological creature or two will have me listening closely. Make that movie found footage, and suddenly, I’m leaning forward in my seat. Then I found out that the film comes from Australia—the country that has some of the bleakest, most unique, and culturally rich horror stories we’ve seen in decades—well, then there’s no question: It’s a must-see for me.

When Alice Maio Mackay was 16 years old in Adelaide, South Australia, she released her first feature film, So Vam, which was then acquired and distributed by Shudder. Just two years later, she was already releasing her third and fourth films. Now, at 21 years old, she’s about to release her sixth venture, The Serpent’s Skin. It’s also her best.

 Filmmaker and artist rebecca shapass debuts her newest film tempus fugit at the Mattress Factory in Pittsburgh, PA. In tempus fugit, shapass combines shots of three primary locations—a cryogenics facility, a pile of writhing worms, and a house filled with items left behind by the previous owner—while incorporating elements of horror and experimental cinema.

As part of Women in Horror month, What Sleeps Beneath is celebrating women in Pittsburgh who are keeping the spirit of the horror community alive. In a city where the genre is deeply rooted, from serving as the location for classic horror movies to being home to the University of Pittsburgh’s Horror Studies program and archive, locals know that horror has always been more than just a story in a book or on a screen.

This wasn’t going to be a rehashed tale of Frankenstein and Pretorius joining forces, inexplicably transplanted into 20th century America. This was beginning to look like Sid & Nancy. This was Bonnie and Clyde. Or more accurately—this is Nancy. This is Bonnie. This is The Bride!

From solidly Weird tales of ghostly hauntings and unseen things to more subtle stories of lost children and malevolent housekeeping, Women’s Weird contained a vast range of subjects reflected through the lens of female experience.

“They talk about death being cold. It’s life that’s the cold thing.”

If it were possible to sum up Edith Nesbit’s horror fiction in a single line then this quote from one of her final tales would be as good an attempt as any. As Melissa Edmundson tells us in her introduction “[Nesbit’s] characters are always hiding something … whether it be a disappointment, a regret, a fear, a screen, or a crime.” The gaps these acts of hiding create become, inevitably, filled with the chill of ghosts but Nesbit’s unexpected statement that life, not death, is cold also indicates some of the contradictions at the heart of her own life.

Novels about art works, and novels about archaeology, have something of the ghost story in them. The Final Act of Juliette Willoughby, by Ellery Lloyd, and Nephthys, by Rachel Louise Driscoll revive the long-standing trope of the mummy’s curse. 

Think of weird fiction and, probably without even realizing it, you will think of one thing: men. Whether it’s H. P. Lovecraft’s tentacled monstrosities, the decadent necromancies of Clark Ashton Smith or Algernon Blackwood’s eerie eco-horror, the canon of weird fiction, like many human endeavors, is dominated by male practitioners.

I honestly couldn’t handle another demonic unborn baby movie or ridiculous pregnancy horror film that left me utterly disturbed. The more I explored this subgenre, the more I realized I wasn’t really going to find something that scared me about the state I was in, just that I would be more scared by the ways filmmakers were incorporating additional elements that tied to pregnant people…. [Instead] I thought it might be fun to explore scary children in horror movies, because hey, why not?

[…] with Weird Sisters, Ashley once again delves into that class of weird tale which, despite their narrative power, have often been unfairly overlooked purely because their authors happened to be women. Overlooked, it has to be clarified, especially in the sense of being writers of weird fiction.

A kick, a push, a hiccup—all strange and new and wild—and admittedly pretty freaky. But what I’m finding in pregnancy horror is that directors rarely explore those natural phenomena. No, there always has to be a sinister monster baby to test our faith and sanity. If only they knew…

In celebration of Women in Horror Month, here is part three of a list of new and upcoming works of horror fiction to get excited about, written by women authors.

In celebration of Women in Horror Month, here is part two of a list of new and upcoming works of horror fiction to get excited about, written by women authors.

Never in my lifetime has it felt so important to recognize the contributions of women—in my own life, in my community, and especially in the genre we all love. So for International Women’s Day, and as a kick-off article for our celebration of Women in Horror Month, I want to highlight some of the most exciting and highly anticipated horror books of 2025 written by women authors, but I also don’t feel like I can stop here. This is only the beginning.