Welcome back to Scare Me! a weekly horror newsletter. Today, we’re celebrating Black History Month by examining some of the movies and books that I’m most excited to experience in 2026.

We all say we have a list—don’t we? As in: “That sounds good! I’ll put it on my list!” The list is an endless, ever-expanding encyclopedia of every bit of media anyone has ever mentioned to us in passing.

Here’s my secret: I have two lists. One list is completely fake, and I reference it to smooth over social situations. There are things on this list that I would never consume in a million years, from Season 5,000 of The Bachelor (too stressful) to This Is Us (too triggering). But in the heat of the moment, I nod and smile. “I’ll add it to my list!”

The second list is my real list—the treasure trove I dip into whenever I’m on the hunt for art that I’m confident will move, unsettle, and inspire me. For Black History Month, I wanted to share a handful of the movies and books that are on my real list, which I intend to explore this year.

Before we dive in: I want to acknowledge that, like queer horror, the Black horror label is fraught. Marginalized audiences are often put in the position of having to read themselves into stories that weren’t necessarily created with them in mind. (For more on this, I highly recommend Horror Noire, a documentary about Black horror cinema executive produced by Dr. Robin R. Means Coleman and Tananarive Due.) My list contains stories that are authored by Black artists, or meaningfully feature Black actors in lead roles.

That said: On to the list! And happy Black history month!

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How have I not seen this?! I honestly wouldn’t blame you if this stunning oversight made you doubt my credibility as a horror fan. The story centers a group of strangers who barricade themselves in a Pennsylvania farmhouse as a horde of cannibalistic zombies attack. Made for just $114,000—the equivalent of around $1M in 2025—Night of the Living Dead is the definition of a cult classic.

Although George A. Romero famously did not set out to tell a story that centered a Black hero, Duane Jones secured the lead role and elevated the story to an entirely new level of nuance and richness.

Although this movie was not directed by a Black filmmaker—Wes Craven took the helm—it famously centers the story of a young boy named Fool, played by Brandon Quintin Adams (then an adorable preteen). Determined to uncover a cache of gold coins, Fool breaks into his family’s landlords’ house. But the house holds far more than treasure, and when Fool becomes trapped inside with two other would-be robbers, he’s thrust into a horrifying confrontation with his landlords’ most evil secrets.

The movie’s villainous landlords are played by Everett McGill and Wendy Robie, by then already known for their iconic roles as Big Ed and Nadine Hurley in Twin Peaks.

I tend to be less drawn to anthology movies and short stories, and it’s a pattern I want to break this year—starting with 1995’s Tales From the Hood. The cult classic explores four stories, each representing a distinct trauma that affects Black communities, from police brutality to gang violence to domestic abuse.

But despite these somber themes, the trailer shows a movie that fully embraces the wild possibilities of the horror genre. From practical effects to elaborate monster makeup to explosions of grave dirt in cemeteries, Tales From the Hood promises to revel in the genre’s most elaborate trappings.

There are so many things I learned in college that I’ve since forgotten—but reading about Eve’s Bayou isn’t one of them. I can’t recall the class or context, but I vividly remember reading an academic analysis of Eve’s Bayou and studying poorly scanned black and white stills. Somehow, I still haven’t managed to watch it and I need to change that this year!

Eve’s Bayou is about a ten-year-old girl (Jurnee Smollett) who witnesses her father (Samuel L. Jackson) commit a shocking act of infidelity. It’s a Southern Gothic horror story in which memory, deception, and betrayal mingle with folklore and mysticism—and it was written and directed by Kasi Lemmons, who appeared as an actress in iconic horror films including Vampire’s Kiss, The Silence of the Lambs, and Candyman.

The original Candyman is one of my favorite horror movies, thanks to a spellbinding performance by the late Tony Todd. Like many Clive Barker “villains,” Candyman is an ultimately sympathetic character—a lover murdered unjustly, doomed to linger as a sensual and poetic supernatural force.

Despite this, I still haven’t seen Nia DaCosta and Jordan Peele’s 2021 sequel, which follows an artist drawn to the intertwined histories of Candyman and Chicago’s Cabrini-Green neighborhood. As curiosity becomes obsession, the artist’s provocative new works invite Candyman’s bloody return. I love, love, loved The Bone Temple and can’t wait to see more of Nia DaCosta’s work.

I gasped at the thrift when I spotted this book—my first by S.A. Cosby, who’s well-known for his gripping, emotional potent noir. The story promises to offer up an old school heist, centering Beauregard “Bug” Montage as our ex-criminal-turned-clean-living-mechanic.

But Bug’s past is always just a step behind him, and it’s catching up fast. To save the life he’s built—his marriage, fatherhood—he’s drawn back into his old ways. I’m a little nervous to start reading this book, because I already know it will be impossible to put down. It seems like the perfect book to tear through while sitting on my deck on an early summer day.

Johnny Compton is famously a big fan of the Alien franchise, which automatically made me curious about his fiction. In Devils Kill Devils, a woman named Sarita has an unusual relationship with her guardian angel. Angelo, as she calls him, seems to come to her aid during times of need. Until Angelo kills someone she loves, upending all her assumptions about the world.

Is Angelo actually Sarita’s guardian angel—or a darker kind of stalker? I’m so intrigued by this premise and curious to find out!

In 1915, the US government offered free land to anyone willing to settle the hostile and barren Montana prairie. For Adelaide Henry, Montana becomes the perfect place to flee. She brings with her a steamer trunk that must remain locked at all times. Because last time the trunk was unlocked, something terrible happened. Something that will almost certainly happen again.

I somehow haven’t been spoiled on this yet—what is in that trunk?!—and I need to read Lone Women ASAP to make sure it stays that way.

I read Tananarive Due’s debut, The Between, last year and fell in love with her suspenseful, dread-filled style and inventive imagery. She’s called the Queen of Horror for a reason! The Reformatory may be her most ambitious book—a sweeping historical epic set in Florida’s Gracetown School for Boys. There, ghosts are the least of twelve-year-old Robbie Stephens Jr.’s problems. It’s the abusive, vile headmaster he fears most.

Although this story is fictional, it’s drawn from real historic events that directly affected Tananarive Due’s family. I think horror is an incredibly powerful genre for discussing the terrors of real history, and it’s moving to witness a writer of Tananarive Due’s immense talent translate generational trauma into art.

I was just approved for this ARC, and I couldn’t be more excited to dive in. Its 256 page count promises a tight, suspenseful Gothic horror. When wealthy Papi Ramon dies, Xiomara watches her family mock his will. “One of you is el bacà, the demon that I made a deal with,” Papi wrote in his final warning to the family. “Get rid of them or you will be damned.”

Trapped together by a sudden storm, Xiomara and her family members are forced to contend with their complicated histories. And the night might just end in murder! Is a demon really to blame—or is something else driving Xiomara’s family to lethal levels of scandal and drama?

Luster seems to skew more weird girl than horror, but the premise makes me hopeful that it’ll have some excruciatingly awkward, social-horror-adjacent scenes. The story follows Edie, a twenty-something Black woman struggling to survive her dead-end admin job, frustrated artistic ambitions, and dating in New York City.

Enter Eric, a white suburban dad in an open-ish marriage. Edie enters the couple’s lives and discovers an unexpected connection with their adopted daughter, who is also Black. This tangled web of connection and desire is sure to put Edie’s life on a new track, or at the very least produce the kind of life-changing angst that so many of us suffer from in our twenties.

She Wore Black is like a comforting hug in podcast form. Podcast host, Texan, and former librarian Agatha Andrews celebrates her genuine love of Gothic romance and horror through interviews and conversations with fascinating authors. Her eclectic taste spans cozy fantasy novels to downright chilling horror tales, and everything in between. Throughout it all, Agatha’s authenticity and enthusiasm make her show an absolute joy to listen to.

I’ll be chatting with Agatha on Friday afternoon, and I am so looking forward to sharing the conversation next week. If you haven’t heard She Wore Black yet, the most recent episode features Johnny Compton discussing his genre-bending new book Dead First. I also recommend the latest episode of Talking Scared, in which host Neil McRobert chats with Agatha about Wuthering Heights!

Scare Me! is a free weekly horror newsletter published every Thursday morning. It’s written by Michelle Delgado, featuring original illustrations by Sam Pugh. You can find the archive of past issues here. If you were sent this by a friend, subscribe to receive more spooky interviews, essays—and maybe even a ghost story or two.