Editorials
While We Wait for ‘The Nun,’ Here Are 6 Other Horror Nuns That Brought the Nightmares
For every Sister Mary Helena in Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors doing her part to warn Freddy’s victims, it seems as though there’s a Valak or a Sister Jude Martin (American Horror Story) to remind us of the dark side of the archetype. In the 18th century, when both the Gothic novel was born and anti-Catholic furor was still high in Britain, both reactionary and radical authors linked Catholicism to concepts of Old World tyranny: the gated communities of monasteries and convents seemed like hidden worlds hiding secret, sexual depredations and tyrannical horrors. Early horror novels like Matthew Lewis’s The Monk (1796) and Charles Robert Maturin’s Melmoth the Wanderer (1820) featured convents that were less religious institutions and more tortuous prisons that would have brought a smile to the lips of the Marquis de Sade or the clients in a Hostel film.
But why do nuns continue to hold their own in the modern imagination? Perhaps it’s still the threat of religious extremism; perhaps as well the intimation of rigid tyranny behind the very structure of convent life, so alien to freer secular or spiritual lives; or perhaps it’s the shocking contrast between the purity that a nun is imagined to represent and the darkness and violence of the genre.
Whatever the reason, nuns have continued to haunt horror literature and cinema – and while you wait for the arrival of Corin Hardy’s The Nun and Aislinn Clarke’s The Devil’s Doorway, here are six of the genre’s scariest nuns to pray by your bedside…
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The Blind Nun in The Sentinel (1977)
Before the iconic blind nun on the cover of The Devil Inside (2012) and the blind, ominous Sister Death in Verónica (2017), The Sentinel firmly established the “blind nun trope” as an eerie visual motif. To say anything further besides providing the haunting still above would spoil the gloriously twisted ending of this classic, cult horror film. But with a movie that features appearances from Chris Sarandon, Burgess Meredith, Ava Gardner, Christopher Walken, John Carradine, and Jeff Goldbum as well as one of the creepiest twist endings in horror history, do you really need any further incentive?
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Mother Ursula in The Monk (1796, 2011)
There’s evil and then there’s Mother Ursula, the head prioress in Matthew Lewis’s horror novel The Monk and French director Dominik Moll’s 2011 adaptation, played to grim perfection by Geraldine Chaplin. It’s her devout way or the highway and Heaven help you if you’re a novice in her convent and fail to keep to her rules. When she discovers that one of her nuns is pregnant, she devises a punishment so cruel that the 2011 film adaptation actually mitigates it somewhat, to avoid shocking the sensibilities of 21st century audiences, keeping it to a Cask of Amontillado-style live entombment. In the original 1796 novel, the victim and her soon-to-be-born child’s fate is far, far grislier and prolonged. “I wish not for your death,” says Mother Ursula, “but your repentance.” As Pet Sematary’s Jud says, “Sometimes dead is better.”
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Sister Mary Eunice in American Horror Story: Asylum (2012)
“We’re all going to be together in the dark watching The Sign Of The Cross, a movie full of fire, sex, and the death of Christians. What fun!” No one has had as much fun with the wicked nun archetype as Lily Rabe in the role of Sister Mary Eunice. Her complicated plot arc takes her from the shy innocent to the knowing seducer; she is a perfect example of the compelling dichotomy of purity and decadence that this particular archetype offers to the genre. Though her demonic possession is played unflinchingly for terror, there is also something perversely entertaining in the way that she entraps the sadistic Dr. Arden and the Monsignor into her hellish designs, both caught off guard by her 180 degree turn from submissive innocence to aggressive diabolism. Also, let’s face it: no one on this list would be as much fun on movie night as Sister Mary.
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Sister Jeanne in The Devils (1971)
Some of the best horror villains exist in that queasy space betwixt monster and villain. Sister Jeanne in Ken Russell’s Gothic nightmare The Devils is such a villain. Persecuted and maddened by repression, she finds escape first in quasi-religious erotic fantasies, then in feigning possession and accusing the priest whom she lusts after of sorcery. In the end, she is tortured by her lies and by the tyrannical State almost as thoroughly as her victim, but this doesn’t alleviate the ultimate carnage that her own agonized repression causes. Definitely not a lady whose eye you’d want to catch.
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The Unknown Nun in Vertigo
Like the Nun in The Sentinel, not much can be said of her role in Vertigo, without giving away one of the most twisted moments not only in Hitchcock’s oeuvre but in all of cinematic history. Suffice it to say that this moment gave me nightmares for a week when I was a kid and, in a film rife with its own nightmarish dream logic and symbolism, serves as a fitting emblem of a cruel, unforgiving, and inescapable karma.
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The Bleeding Nun in The Monk
Unfortunately, Dominik Moll’s otherwise fantastic adaptation of The Monk completely omits not only one of the most chilling ghostly nuns in horror history, but the very first instance of this archetype in popular horror literature. Lewis’s tale of a murderous, licentious ghostly nun whose bloodstained form appears nightly at the bedside of Don Raymond captured the public imagination so powerfully that it was frequently anthologized on its own in horror anthologies.
It also contains, perhaps, the first truly chilling jump scene in horror literature, in this conversation between her victim and the exorcist:
“I have the power of releasing you from your nightly visitor; but this cannot be done before Sunday. On the hour when the Sabbath morning breaks, spirits of darkness have least influence over mortals. After Saturday the Nun shall visit you no more.”
“May I not enquire,” said I, ‘”by what means you are in possession of a secret which I have carefully concealed from the knowledge of everyone?”
“How can I be ignorant of your distress, when their cause at this moment stands beside you?”
I started. The Stranger continued.
“Though to you only visible for one hour in the twenty-four, neither day or night does She ever quit you; Nor will She ever quit you till you have granted her request.”
Pleasant dreams…
Editorials
How ‘Weapons’, ‘Hokum’, and ‘Widow’s Bay’ Continue Stephen King’s Horror Legacy
After fifty years of continuous writing, Stephen King has become a genre unto himself.
The unrivaled Master of Horror made a splash in 1974 with his debut novel Carrie and has been terrifying readers ever since. Two years later, Brian De Palma brought this shocking story to the screen with an equally electrifying horror film that remains a genre classic and a prototypical example of “Good For Her” horror. This dual debut seemed to open the floodgates, unleashing endless waves of Stephen King films.
From the highs of Misery, Cujo, and The Shawshank Redemption to the schlocky fun of Cat’s Eye, Creepshow, and Children of the Corn, the last five decades have seen just about every notable horror creator take a stab at the author’s massive collection.
In recent years, this singular subgenre has begun to burst at the seams, expanding to include Stephen King-esque fare. In 2016, brothers Matt and Ross Duffer debuted Stranger Things, a sci-fi series heavily inspired by two of King’s most famous books. The Netflix series remixes Firestarter and It by following a little girl with psychic powers and an intrepid group of kids on bikes who must battle an otherworldly foe and a sinister government agency. With its clever blend of modern effects and comforting nostalgia, this gateway horror series paved the way for Andy Muschietti’s It adaptation which remains the highest grossing horror film of all time.
Four years later, Mike Flanagan would create Midnight Mass, a spiritual adaptation of King’s second novel Salem’s Lot. Published in 1975, the book sees a tiny New England town torn apart by a centuries-old vampire. Though Flanagan’s story is perhaps more tender, both iterations of the classic horror tale follow close-knit communities shaken to their core by the presence of an ancient evil.
In addition to these recent hits, 2025 was a banner year for the Master of Horror. Audiences delighted in six mainstream adaptations, including the massively popular It: Welcome to Derry which chronicles earlier cycles of the titular clown’s reign. With this boost to King’s cultural cache, it’s no surprise that we’ve begun to see more unofficial adaptations of the author’s work and horror creators who build their own unique castles in King’s creative sandbox.
So what defines a Stephen King-esque story?
For the past fifty years, the prolific author has dipped his toes in nearly every subgenre from supernatural stories and grisly gore to western fantasy and science fiction. Including his vast catalogue of short fiction, King has tackled ghosts, demons, werewolves, zombies, aliens, mutants, and self-driving cars, not to mention bizarre monsters of his own creation. But what truly unites this vast array of horror is King’s focus on relatable characters. In his 2000 memoir/instructional text On Writing, the prolific author describes the amusement he finds in writing disparate characters, placing them in horrific scenarios, then exploring the ways they try to survive.
An unofficial Stephen King adaptation may take place in the author’s native New England — bonus points if it’s set in Maine — and reference his well-known heroes and villains. But what makes the King connection unbreakable is a character-driven story about average people who band together in the face of abject terror.
Weapons Captures Small Town Stephen King

Following his 2022 shocker Barbarian, Zach Cregger returned with Weapons, a sprawling story that begins in a doomed elementary school. On an otherwise ordinary day, Justine (Julia Garner) arrives at her desk to find that all but one of her students have disappeared. As the mystery grows increasingly violent, Justine and Archer (Josh Brolin), the father of a missing boy, find their way to the home of Alex (Cary Christopher), the class’ only surviving student. In some ways reminiscent of Salem’s Lot, Weapons swings wildly through the unfortunate town, introducing us to its flawed inhabitants as we watch their lives fall apart.
Cregger’s setup nods to a pair of King short stories. Both “Suffer the Little Children” and “Here There Be Tygers” tackle monstrous presences in elementary schools, but as Weapons reaches its final act, Constant Readers may remember another Stephen King tale. Featured in his 1985 collection Skeleton Crew, “Gramma” introduces us to George, a little boy tormented by an aging witch. On an afternoon alone with his sickly grandmother, the frightened child gradually realizes that the imposing old woman has been waiting for an opportunity to cast a spell that will extend her own life by possessing his body.
Alex finds himself similarly tortured by his aunt Gladys (Amy Madigan), a garish witch who orchestrates a desperate plot to sustain her own strength. Transforming humans into mindless weapons, Gladys has taken over Alex’s family home and lured his classmates to the basement. Holding them in a comatose state, she syphons off their energy to extend her own supernatural life.
Vastly different in many ways, both “Gramma” and Weapons hinge on a sinister witch who uses horrific magical spells to sacrifice the bodies of her vulnerable prey.
Hokum Echoes The Shining and 1408

It’s nearly impossible to watch a film about a haunted hotel without thinking of King’s third novel, The Shining. This icy story follows Jack Torrance, an angry writer struggling with his sobriety and a shameful incident haunting his past. Accompanied by his wife and young son, Jack has taken a job as the winter caretaker for the Overlook, a haunted hotel situated high in the Rocky Mountains. Snowed in, Jack finds himself tormented by dangerous ghosts who amplify his greatest fears.
Damian McCarthy’s Hokum follows a similarly troubled figure. Ohm Bauman (Adam Scott) is a surly writer who travels to the Bilberry Woods Hotel in rural Ireland to spread his parents’ ashes. Haunted by his own tragic past, Ohm finds himself trapped in the honeymoon suite, a decaying room that’s been permanently closed to protect visitors from a dangerous witch trapped within its walls. Visual nods to King’s text abound with woodcut figurines and an animated clock, mirroring ominous descriptions found in King’s text.
Another terrifying sequence sees Ohm staring with horror at a closed door, the only thing separating him from the approaching witch. As the door knob slowly turns, Constant Readers remember Jack’s narrow escape from the ghostly woman in room 217. And Ohm’s popular Conquistador books directly reference King’s long-running fantasy series The Dark Tower which follows a gunslinger named Roland Deschain tasked with protecting the nexus of the universe.
In addition to these thematic comparisons, Hokum bears striking resemblance to King’s terrifying short story “1408.” Collected in 2002’s Everything’s Eventual, the terrifying story follows Mike Enslin, a dejected writer who’s risen to fame penning essays about his adventures in haunted locations. Mike arrives at the Hotel Dolphin and bullies his way into the titular room, despite the manager’s dire warnings. McCarthy nods to this story with an ominously misplaced hotel room door, reminiscent of King’s entry to 1408, an unsuspecting portal that appears to move each time Mike looks away.
However, McCarthy’s most direct reference lies in a minicorder Ohm uses to capture notes. Trapped inside the dreaded honeymoon suite, this device offers well-timed messages while sitting next to a decomposing corpse. Mike records his time in 1408 with his own trusty minicorder. Described for the reader, his tape has captured the man’s slow descent into madness as the room prepares to swallow him whole. With conclusions that differ wildly in tone, both Ohm and Mike find their lives irrevocably changed by encounters with the supernatural realm.
Widow’s Bay Builds Its Own Version of Castle Rock

Katie Dippold’s Widow’s Bay has taken the idea of an unofficial King adaptation and turned it into an art form. The Apple TV series sees the residents of the titular island plagued by a curse that dates back centuries. Not only does the picturesque hamlet not accommodate wifi connections, those born on the island face certain death should they ever try to leave. Desperate to modernize the tiny town, Mayor Tom Loftis (Matthew Rhys) draws in waves of tourists just as a new cycle of terror begins.
Blending horror with deft comedy, Dippold makes cheeky references to King’s body of work. Tom warns that, “there’s something in the fog,” reminding readers of King’s 1980 novella The Mist. And Loftis’ own stay in the town’s haunted hotel sees him tormented by the ghost of a murderous clown. We even spy a vintage King hardback peeking out of a local book trade box.
In many ways Widow’s Bay feels like a new iteration of the author’s Little Tall Island, a tiny village off the coast of Maine. In addition to the 1992 novel Dolores Claiborne and a handful of harrowing short stories, this quaint fishing village is also the setting for King’s 1999 teleplay Storm of the Century. Premiering on ABC primetime, this tragic tale follows a terrified group of islanders who batten down the hatches for a dangerous Nor’easter only to find a more sinister threat lurking within.
Constant Readers may also be reminded of Castle Rock, the author’s favorite fictional town.
First introduced in the 1981 novel Cujo, the charming village becomes the star of Needful Things, King’s satire about consumerism. After several Castle Rock stories, we’re reintroduced to its residents as they gossip about the arrival of Leland Gaunt and the grand opening of his curio shop. Anything their hearts desire can be found in his varied inventory, so long as they’re willing to pay the price. Pitting cantankerous neighbors against each other, Gaunt ignites a wave of grisly violence by exploiting long-held resentments and feuds.
The town’s only defense against this supernatural threat is beleaguered sheriff Alan Pangborn. Still grieving the deaths of his wife and younger son, Alan struggles to connect with his older child and pick up the pieces of his shattered life. Also a widower, Loftis struggles to raise his own restless son and explain the strange details of his wife’s tragic death. Attempting to unravel the island’s dark secrets, Tom is aided by quirky residents including a surly fisherman named Wyck (Stephen Root) and Patricia (Kate O’Flynn), an earnest Town Hall employee. King’s own novels feature many of these proactive alliances with disparate characters combining their strengths to overcome insurmountable odds.
With Widow’s Bay renewed for a second season and Mike Flanagan’s Carrie series on the horizon, the future seems bright for new King adaptations, both spiritual and directly pulled from his catalogue. The prolific author also shows no signs of slowing down with two publications nearing release. His upcoming novel, Other Worlds Than These, is the long-awaited third Talisman book which teases direct ties to his Dark Tower world. Holly Forever will be a new installment of his crime series, offering a different kind of genre fare.
This embarrassment of riches spawning multiple worlds seems ripe for spiritual adaptation and will likely inspire horror creators for decades to come.

Kate O’Flynn, Stephen Root and Matthew Rhys in “Widow’s Bay,” now streaming on Apple TV.






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