Spooky season is every season with 2026's freshest horror listens

If you prefer the comforts of technology to the great outdoors, Paul Tremblay’s latest novel may leave you yearning for some time away from your computer. In Dead but Dreaming of Electric Sheep, Julia Flang, a semi-pro gamer in her twenties, is recruited to remotely pilot a medically brain-dead man across the country. But that man’s consciousness has not entirely faded, and now he must solve the mystery of his own identity—all while contending with the artificial intelligence implanted in his brain. It’s as outlandish as it sounds, and it’s well worth the ride, especially in audio. With sound design that mimics the technohorror, Dead but Dreaming is nightmare fuel for the modern age. (And don't miss our interview with Tremblay, where the horror writer reveals what scares him the most.)

“It’s happening again.” That’s the ominous message Special Agent Daniel Stansfield receives, beckoning him back to Denver, Colorado. Four years ago, he ran from the city, leaving behind the haunting unsolved case he was never able to shake. But he's forced to return when a string of amnesiac murderers turn up on the side of the road, wearing the skin of their victims. As Daniel attempts to uncover the truth behind these inexplicable killings, he's also forced to reckon with the traumas of his upbringing. With a setting in the vast Colorado landscape echoing the desolation of The Shining and a pitch-perfect performance from Andrew Eiden, this is a detective thriller with a foreboding supernatural edge you won’t soon forget.

I'm admittedly not a fan of bugs—at all. I have no malice against creepy-crawler critters, but I’d prefer they fly or skitter as far away from me as possible. Among my most irrational insect-based fears is the humble botfly, a parasitic creature that burrows into mammalian skin. (I quite literally shivered at the thought while typing this line.) T. Kingfisher’s Wolf Worm seems to target me specifically. This gothic horror listen follows Sonia Wilson, a scientific illustrator who, in 1899, is hired by the mysterious Dr. Halder to catalogue his entomology collection. But there’s murmurs of something dark lurking in the woods near Halder’s estate. With Mary Robinette Kowal behind the mic amping up Kingfisher’s viscerally upsetting creature horror, this is not a listen for the faint of heart.

Horror often draws upon the topic du jour to craft narratives that feel particularly resonant to contemporary audiences. And in 2026, who among us has not found themselves in a doomscroll spiral of shortform content? Trad Wife emphasizes the “doom” element, zeroing in on influencer Camille Denning, who’s desperate to complete her flawless rustic image with the ultimate accessory: a baby. Desperate to make it happen despite her souring relationship with her husband, Camille makes a wish on an eerie old well she stumbles across in the fields. She gets pregnant, but the child she’s carrying is less a bundle of joy and more the stuff of nightmares. Narrator Rachel L. Jacobs expertly builds tension and unease as Camille’s demonic pregnancy progresses, bringing with it plenty of body horror and no shortage of peculiar cravings.

It’s not just tradwives who are having their moment in the social media sun. With the revival of weight loss culture and the seeming demise of body positivity, the year has been dominated by shrinking frames on screen and worrisome trends in the wellness space. In the multicast-narrated Nothing Tastes as Good, author Luke Dumas skewers our slim-obsessed society with the story of Emmett Truesdale. Emmett has tried every diet possible to change his body (and by doing so, he hopes, his life), but none of them seem to have an effect. When he hears of a clinical trial for a miraculous new drug, he signs up and is rewarded by near-instantaneous results. But the side effects of Obexity are nothing short of sinister, and when stories of a cannibalistic killer begin to circulate, Emmett begins to question just how far he’d go for a smaller frame.

If you prefer your horror with a historical edge, check out This House Will Feed. Maria Tureaud’s adult debut is set in the wake of Ireland’s Great Hunger, a period of mass starvation that began in the mid-1840s and ultimately killed over one million people. Maggie O’Shaughnessy has lost her family and all hope in the blight, but an enigmatic benefactor by the name of Lady Catherine steps in to offer a new beginning in her County Clare mansion. There, Maggie is brought into a scheme to claim Lady Catherine’s daughter’s widow pension. But the estate grows disquiet—are the folk tales of curses and phantoms true? Or is the true wraith lurking within Maggie herself? Atmospheric, bleak, and breathtaking, this listen (enlivened by a team of talents in Emily O’Mahony and John Keating) is as unsettling as it is heartbreaking.

The twisted, tantalizing premise of Greedy is merely an amuse-bouche for the sharp class commentary that simmers just below the surface. The Yakuza are on debtor Edward Cook’s trail, and the broke everyman is determined to do whatever he can to pay them off and keep his family safe. He answers a help wanted ad for a private chef position with a wealthy, eccentric socialite, and soon finds himself in a world he couldn’t possibly imagine. His new employer’s tastes are rather specific, to say the least. A vicious takedown of classism, consumption, morality, and complicity, Callie Kazumi’s food-horror is a feast, and narrator Ami Okumura Jones’s delicious performance the pitch-perfect pinch of seasoning.

Another work of historical horror, Philip Fracassi’s Sarafina opens during the American Civil War. Three brothers serving in the Confederate Army decide to abandon ship when it seems death is far more likely than victory. As they begin the long and dangerous trek home, they’re met with violence and peril. In dire need of respite, they seek refuge in a cabin they come across in the woods where a woman named Sarafina and her son, Titus, reside. But there’s something not quite right about their host or the home she’s built in the wilderness. This taut, brutally beautiful novel is made all the more haunting thanks to the performances of Eric Fox and Ellie Gossage, who embody each narrative perspective with genuine emotion and dread.

The peaceful, slow pacing of the Scottish countryside, the quiet of a remote cottage, the chance of a fresh start—Home Sick opens with a concept that feels more appropriate for a lighthearted work of contemporary fiction than a horror novel. But when Tamsin relocates after a traumatic workplace incident, she finds that her new home is anything but an escape. Her peculiar neighbor looms ominously, separated only by a thin wall. Steeped in dread and paranoia, this tightly wound debut (narrated with magnetism by classically trained actor Mhairi Morrison) buzzes with anxiety and tension.

It’s no secret that we’re, err, suckers for a good vampire story, and Charlotte Cross’s The Brides promises to be a thoroughly original reimagining of Bram Stoker’s classic Dracula. This time, the focus is not on the titular Count but on his living dead brides, figures usually kept at the periphery of the story. Like Dracula, this novel is epistolary, unfolding through journal entries, psychiatric reports, letters, and more, lending a sense of realism to its richly developed Victorian world. And at the center of it all, four women en route to Transylvania with no way of knowing the shocking evil that awaits them. The Brides is told through a dual timeline narrative and is fittingly narrated by Anna Popplewell and Sam Woolf, bringing to life both the fate of the brides and the fallout faced by those who survived.

It’s been three years since the cultural phenom that was Barbenheimer, and Lindy Ryan’s Dollface promises a new crossover event featuring our favorite fashion doll. Described as “Barbie meets Scream,” this slasher packs plenty of nostalgia and a wicked sense of humor. When horror author Jill moves to New Jersey, she figures her biggest problem will be getting along with the rest of the PTA moms. She couldn't have predicted that a serial killer clad in a plastic mask would soon descend on the town, picking off her peers one by one. Narrator Stephanie Németh Parker nails every voice in this suburban thriller, grounding the story in close-to-home terror while suspense mounts and the body count rises.