Fresh nightmares and forever-frights—your definitive Halloween playlist for 2025, plus five Steam Next Fest horror demos you can play this week.
Halloween is the time to dim the lights, crank the headphones, and let a good scare claim your evening. This year’s list blends brand‑new releases with timeless essentials—ten games that deliver dread by atmosphere, systems, story, or sheer audacity. And because it’s Steam Next Fest week (Oct 13–20), we’ve also added a handful of free horror demos to sample between candy runs and late‑night sessions. Try a few, then circle back for the full releases throughout the season. (Next Fest dates: Oct 13–20.)
10) Little Nightmares III (2025)
Supermassive Games’ first run at this haunting series widens its scope without losing the toy‑box terror. Across sun‑blasted necropolises, shuddering carnivals, and wind‑gnawed temples, childhood myths grow teeth. You control Alone and Low—two tiny survivors with complementary tools—creeping through clockwork set pieces that punish impatience and reward careful curiosity. Low’s bow flips distant switches; Alone’s wrench pries open shortcuts, and both can share items to improvise solutions when a giant’s shadow falls. It’s gorgeous in motion: oversized props loom like predatory architecture, and the soundscape sells scale with groaning timbers and rattling ducts. Online co‑op is the headline, but it’s also fully playable solo if you prefer a chill, observational pace. Expect modest puzzles, brisk chapters, and superbly staged chases; the horror lands through implication more than jump scares. For Halloween, it’s a perfect atmospheric snack—creepy, stylish, and just uncomfortable enough to make you glance over your shoulder while you climb, crawl, and hide. Bring headphones for maximum unease tonight.
9) SILENT HILL 2 (2024)
Bloober Team’s retelling of the survival‑horror touchstone is reverent without being precious. James Sunderland’s pilgrimage to the fog‑drowned town returns with densely textured streets that gleam with rain, smear with rust, and swallow flashlight cones like breath. Combat is heavier and more legible than the PS2 original, yet still anxious—every swing of a pipe feels like a decision you’d rather not make. The camera finds dreadful intimacy in cramped apartments and hospital wards, letting you hear metal scrape before you see what’s making it. Puzzles lean on observation instead of obscurity, recontextualizing familiar locks and riddles so returning fans still flinch. Crucially, the story’s grief and guilt remain central: James’s search is unnerving because it’s personal, and the monsters look like secrets he refuses to name. Whether this is your first visit or a homecoming, the remake captures Silent Hill’s sad, relentless undertow and makes it playable for modern sensibilities without sanding off its edge. Headphones recommended; keep brightness low.
8) Still Wakes the Deep (2024)
The Chinese Room builds horror from breath, weather, and failing metal. Trapped on the Beira D oil rig as a storm shears steel like paper, you navigate buckling catwalks, flooded stairwells, and rooms singing with angry machinery. There’s no combat—only frantic problem‑solving and brittle moments of calm as Caz, a flawed but empathetic electrician, tries to make amends while everything collapses around him. The rig is a character: slamming doors, quivering handrails, and throat‑deep groans become your soundtrack as corridors transform from workplace to maze. Set‑pieces favor physicality over puzzles; a ladder slick with oil is as scary as any monster, and a sprint across open decking in gale‑force rain feels like a boss fight. Smart spatial storytelling keeps you oriented even when alarms blare, and the performances ground the spectacle in human stakes. It’s a short, breathless nightmare that’s perfect for a single Halloween sitting—turn out the lights, grip the controller, and let the whole ocean swallow your senses.
7) Slitterhead (2024)
Bokeh Game Studio’s debut is a wild, gross, and oddly tender creature feature that plays like a midnight movie. You stalk neon‑smeared streets where ordinary people unzip into shrieking chimeras—skinned puppets, chitin, and sinew flex in ways that feel biologically plausible and spiritually wrong. Combat is agile, with dodges, counters, and weapon morphs, but the real thrills come from baiting transformations and weaponizing the environment—luring monsters under signage or into traffic before finishing them with style. A moody soundtrack and theatrical framing give encounters a macabre rhythm, and side stories about grief, exploitation, and chosen family cut through the viscera. It’s as much urban fantasy as horror, constantly asking what it costs to be monstrous in a city that feeds on anonymity. The result is a messy game full of gnarly set pieces, heartfelt weirdos, and surprises. For Halloween, it’s the pick when you want gore, melancholy, and swagger in the same blood‑slicked package—equal parts brawl, chase, and fever dream.
6) Alan Wake 2 (2023)
Remedy’s long‑gestating sequel turns writer’s block into a labyrinth. Half the game is a true‑crime investigation starring FBI agent Saga Anderson, complete with a corkboard‑style Mind Place where you pin clues, profile suspects, and literally rewrite connections. The other half is Alan’s desperate escape from the Dark Place—an echo‑soaked New York where looping FMV vignettes, musical numbers, and stagecraft push horror presentation forward. Mechanically, it’s disciplined survival horror: scarce ammo, sharp dodges, and light‑based crowd control that drains nerves fast. The tone ricochets between deadpan myth and nightmare theatre, yet the performances keep everything grounded, with Sam Lake’s metanarrative glee never overwhelming the dread. Exploration rewards patience with nasty optional bosses and pages that foreshadow scenes you haven’t reached. It’s a late‑night book you can’t put down: stylish, unnerving, and surprisingly humane about what stories steal from their authors. If you want Halloween to feel like a prestige TV binge gone wrong, step into the spiral and read on. Tonight.
5) Resident Evil 4 (Remake) (2023)
Capcom’s 2023 reimagining keeps the pulpy charm—suplexes, quips, cultists chanting nonsense—while rebuilding the village‑to‑island gauntlet into a taut survival playground. The knife parry alone reframes encounters, letting you bully chainsaw maniacs one second and panic‑stab a parasite the next. Exploration flows better than ever, with side quests nudging you into corners of the map that older versions hid in cutscenes. Gunfeel is exquisite; upgrading the Red9 or bolt‑thrower becomes a tiny character arc, and attaché‑case Tetris still scratches the same compulsive itch. Ashley’s sections are smarter, boss fights have new wrinkles, and the tone threads the needle between camp and credible menace. For returning players, the Resident Evil 4 you remember exists only in your mind—this one is faster, harsher, and more readable. For newcomers, it’s a master class in set‑piece design and resource pressure that never stops finding new ways to make you sweat by firelight. VR mode and bonus modes extend the party long after credits roll too.
4) WORLD OF HORROR (2023)
Drawn in stark 1‑bit MS‑Paint austerity, panstasz’s roguelike is creepier than many big‑budget bloodbaths. In the cursed seaside town of Shiokawa, you investigate procedurally stitched mysteries—classroom rumors, apartment hauntings, a ramen shop with meat that twitches—while an Old God’s arrival ticks down in the corner of the screen. Its turn‑based combat is brittle and risky, but the real game is resource triage: spend Doom to rest, risk random events for cash, or carve sigils into your arm to unlock forbidden options. Each seed mixes events, perks, and curses into new folk‑horror tales that end in school basements, burned shrines, or VHS static. The UI feels like contraband from a haunted clinic computer; the monochrome art makes every tooth and tendon unforgettable. It’s perfect Halloween fare for players who enjoy stories that stain your imagination, not your floorboards—slow, sickly, and incredibly replayable, with secrets still surfacing years after launch. Runs are short, but decisions linger like bruises under fluorescent light afterward.
3) Lethal Company (2023)
The co‑op horror phenomenon of the last two Halloweens still absolutely slaps. Four dorks in bargain‑bin space suits land on abandoned moons to scavenge scrap for a faceless employer. The loop is simple—looting, shouting over proximity chat, sprinting for the ship when something howls—but emergent chaos turns sessions into folklore: doors miscalled, ladders misjudged, a teammate dragged into the dark while everyone argues about quotas. Enemies range from goofy to existentially upsetting, and their behaviors collide in hilarious, lethal ways. The magic is how social the fear becomes; trust erodes with the batteries, and leadership flips hands every time someone panics or dies. Light survival‑sim touches make planning matter—budget for flashlights, mark a safe room, and decide who’s staying on comms. It’s the ideal Halloween party game: inexpensive, instantly legible, and endlessly quotable, especially when the ship leaves early by accident and you vow to never forgive, then queue again. Mod support and updates keep the screams fresh between holidays.
2) Amnesia: The Bunker (2023)
Frictional’s smartest design in years drops you into a semi‑open World War I bunker haunted by a single enemy that hears every mistake. Your map is a real, readable artifact; your revolver is loud and unreliable; your best friend is a clattering, fuel‑hungry generator that keeps corridors lit and the creature shy. Systems tangle beautifully: burn precious oil to cut a shortcut now or save it to keep lights humming later; block a vent and the monster will test other routes; set a trap and your own alarm clock betrays you. Randomized lockers and code solutions make each run distinct, and a mid‑length campaign keeps tension taut without overstaying. It’s still Amnesia at heart—panic, improvisation, and the dread of a door you aren’t ready to open—but with enough systemic bite to turn every step into a decision. Play this with the volume high and the lights off; you’ll learn to fear the click of an empty chamber. Late tonight, preferably.
1) SIGNALIS (2022)
A love letter to classic survival horror that never feels like parody, Signalis strands you as Elster, a synthetic Replika searching for her lost partner inside a fascist megastructure. Fixed angles, tiny inventory, and precise hitboxes evoke PS1‑era anxiety, while razor‑clean pixel art, radio puzzles, and a fractured, tender narrative make it modern. Enemy management is the game: sometimes you spend ammo to create a safe corridor; sometimes you leave nightmares writhing and hope they stay down; sometimes you burn a room just to breathe. Every system reinforces vulnerability—healing is scarce, storage is smaller than your ambitions, and a single wrong turn can snowball into regret you carry hours. Endings reframe the story without neat answers, and hidden rooms reward players who read symbolism as carefully as maps. The result is quietly devastating science‑fiction horror that lingers like a dream you can’t shake, ideal Halloween reading for fans of dread over spectacle. Bring notes; its ciphers reward attention and patience.
Bonus: 5 Steam Next Fest Horror Demos to Download This Week
- Beneath (Camel 101/Wired Productions) — Lovecraft‑tinged survival FPS in the abyss; the official Next Fest demo is live now.
- SHOCK (Hero’s Punch Productions) — A claustrophobic, story‑driven escape through a haunted parking structure, played from a wheelchair; demo arriving for Next Fest this week.
- Storebound (Embers) — Backrooms‑inspired, co‑op survival horror about escaping an endless supermarket; new demo released ahead of Next Fest.
- Quarantine Zone: The Last Check (Tactic Forge / Devolver Digital) — Dystopian survival sim with a new demo slated for the October Next Fest.
- Ire: A Prologue (The Fear of Twine) — Psychological horror slice with a narrative focus; hands‑on preview timed to Next Fest.
Alternate picks for co‑op parties
If you want more laughs‑through‑screams: Phasmophobia, Dead by Daylight, and The Outlast Trials remain excellent warm‑ups before diving into the single‑player terrors above.
