The 50 Scariest Horror Movie Monsters Ranked

What scares you? Is it something ephemeral, like the concept of death or failure? Do sharks and slithery things give you nightmares, or is it Freddy Krueger and Michael Myers who keep you up at night? In the realm of terrifying monsters, it's hard to pick the absolute scariest one. Fear is, after all, purely subjective. Many things go bump in the night, but not all of them are created equal. Sure, some monsters will stick with you from childhood until you're old a grey, but others ... well, they lack a certain Je ne sais quois. Not these ones, though. No way. 

The /Film horror team put their heads together to come up with an immense list of horror movie monsters that gave them the frights, and together they whittled that list down to 30 contenders. Here are your scariest horror movie monsters.

Raatma only has a few seconds of screen time in "V/H/S/94," one of the best entries in the long-running found footage horror anthology series, but every single one of those seconds leaves an impact. A grotesque rat creature, who lives in the series beneath a nondescript city and has garnered a following of deranged individuals who worship it as a god, it's a triumph of low-key movie monster design — the fact that you barely see Raatma means it sits in your brain like a shard of glass you can't quite remove. What the absolute heck is this thing?

And unlike so many great movie monsters, Raatma is also darkly funny, with its followers creating some of the biggest laughs and most meme-able moments in recent horror history. Raatma is so nasty, so bleak, that the film's only course of action is transform its influence into the most shocking comedy imaginable. Hail, Raatma! (Jacob Hall)

What if the main monster of a horror movie was ... a beach that makes you grow old? A quintessential example of a film that couldn't have been made by any other director or at any other moment in that director's filmography, "Old" — and the killer beach at the center of the story — represents the nexus of all of filmmaker M. Night Shyamalan's famously divisive idiosyncrasies. Even more than terrifying ghosts or megalomaniac supervillains or an invasion of extraterrestrials, the time-defying beach strikes at a very particular, yet universal anxiety that Shyamalan exploits to the fullest.

Okay, like much of Shyamalan's work, the real antagonist of "Old" essentially boils down to the disturbing lengths individuals and institutions will go to protect their own self-interests, but the setting of this largely one-location thriller truly manages to crawl underneath the skin. The beach's time-dilation effect is ultimately responsible for a rushed pregnancy gone horrifically wrong, an impromptu and gruesome surgery, and all sorts of traumatic deaths. But, most frightening of all, it forces the characters to grapple with the sick, existential feeling of watching precious moments of life slip away. If that's not a monster, I don't know what is. (Jeremy Mathai)

American Kaiju cinema isn't as popular as it should be, which is a shame because "Cloverfield" is such a phenomenal experiment in perspective and destruction. The title references Project Cloverfield, which the American government uses as a codename for the film's creature. An extraterrestrial beast crashes into the ocean and begins destroying New York City, which we witness through the found-footage perspective of partygoers now fleeing for their life. 

There's no defense, and nowhere you can escape given the Kaiju's gargantuan size. How is that not pit-of-your-stomach horrific?

Let's cover all the ways Clover — the eventual nickname of the mega beast — can cause harm. Maybe his gigantic stomper crushes you underfoot, or perhaps he chews you in half. Clover could topple a skyscraper or bridge and crush you under debris. The helpless feeling that "Cloverfield" stirs is the ultimate horror vibe, and that's without even acknowledging the violent minions Clover releases from its body that causes victims to explode when bit. 

Clover is one of the great American monsters since Y2K, causing a million ways to die that we will never forget. (Matt Donato)

Though South Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho is no stranger to the socially conscious thriller, his 2006 film "The Host" plays with a distinct twist in the sub-genre. After American-sanctioned negligence results in 400 bottles of formaldehyde being poured into Seoul's Han River, all the fish die while something terrifying begins to mutate and take shape. When a string of sightings crop up, all detailing a strange, amphibian creature roaming the riverbanks, a monster finally emerges from the murky depths, wreaking havoc on the city and its populace. In a frenzied panic, snack stall owner Park Gang-du (Song Kang-ho) even loses his young daughter Hyun-seo (Go Ah-sung) to the monster's slimy clutches.

Dubbed the Gwoemul (Korean for "monster"), the creature resembles a cross of a fish and a salamander, with some horrifying new additions. It boasts a multi-pronged, gaping mouth and a prehensile tail. What makes the creature so eerie, though, is the fact that its backstory has real-world origins. In 2000, the U.S. really did dump all that formaldehyde into the Han River, causing actual mutations in the indigenous fish population. Theoretically, the Gwoemul could emerge from the river's waters at any moment, and America would be totally to blame. (Natalia Keogan)

Everything about the Tall Man feels...wrong. Angus Scrimm, with his looming heigh and unusual features, feels less like a human being and more like an alien entity stumbling about in a disguise that never fits quite right. He exudes a cosmic menace, a vibe that could be mistaken for eccentricity by those who aren't paying attention. In other words, he's the perfect fit for "Phantasm" and its sequels, a franchise all about the slow leaking of dream-like chaos into our world. Scrimm, with his bellowing voice and severe face, emerges from the darkness like a nightmare. He's the Terminator – you can't stop him, it's not clear if anything can stop him.

The "Phantasm" series has its ups and downs, but the Tall Man remains a fixed point, an anchor that maintains our horrified fascinations. In a given moment, he looks just like a man. But in action, he's the conductor of universal horrors so extreme that they defy the imagination. His existence is our greatest nightmare. (Jacob Hall)

Darkness is always scary. So when a monster can blend seamlessly into the dark without alerting you to its presence until it's too late, there are few things more terrifying. That's what makes the wolf aliens in "Attack the Block" such great monsters. The pitch black hair that covers their entire body makes it supremely difficult to see them in the dead of night on the streets of South London. It's only when they open their mouths that they're revealed, and that only makes them more scary. Without any eyes (at least that we can see), you can only notice these creatures in the dark due to the electric blue glow of their deadly, sharp teeth, so there's not even a bloodthirsty glare to stare into before their attack.

Making the wolf aliens even more menacing is the fact that they're driven by their instinctual nature. Why are they attacking these teens on their home turf? Because the guys had a run-in with a female alien, and they've been carrying around its body all over the block with them. All the male aliens (maliens?) can smell their potential mate, and they keep chasing its pheromones. The wolf aliens would literally kill a bunch of kids rather than not get laid. (Ethan Anderton)

Remaking a classic horror movie is one of the biggest risks a director can take, but for David Cronenberg, "The Fly" helped solidify his reputation as one of horror's greatest masters. 

"The Fly," a remake of the beloved B-movie of the same name, showcases the revolting demise of Jeff Goldblum's Dr. Seth Brundle, a brilliant scientist who believes he has discovered the key to teleportation. In what would become quite possibly the biggest drunken mistake ever put to film, Dr. Brundle attempts to test his telepods on himself, unknowingly merging himself with a housefly in the process. The results are grotesque, as Dr. Brundle slowly transforms into the monstrous creature known by horror fans as Brundlefly. His body mutates and falls apart, growing increasingly more repulsive by the hour. 

Thanks to the Academy Award-winning practical makeup work of Chris Walas and Stephan Dupuis, the unsightly vision of Jeff Goldblum's metamorphosis has been effectively terrifying (and grossing out) audiences for nearly four decades. (BJ Colangelo)

Most of the monsters on this list are alive in some quantifiable way, but the villain at the heart of "Oculus" wears the mask of an inanimate object. The Lasser Glass, a mirror that's killed 45 people and counting is one sick puppy, capable of manipulating reality for anyone who comes near it. In Mike Flanagan's pulse-pounding film, it faces off against Kaylie (Karen Gillan) and Tim (Brenton Thwaites), two traumatized siblings whose family was ripped apart by the mirror years ago.

While most cursed objects are revealed to be associated with some outside participant or demonic presence, in "Oculus," the Lasser Glass is the presence. The antique has been taking lives since at least 1754, including killing the pair's parents. It can bend perceptions in a deeply creepy and tragic way, relentlessly messing with time, space, and its victims' heads. 

It can also, memorably, make a person take a bite out of a light bulb. 

The heroes of "Oculus" are extra-clever horror movie protagonists, making their continued inability to overcome the mirror's dark enchantments all the more terrifying. (Valerie Ettenhofer)

The Entity from "Skinamarink," not pictured, never actually appears on screen. Or maybe it does, and it is pictured. Or maybe it doesn't exist. Maybe it's all of those! Like all the horrifying monsters on this list, it doesn't actually matter if it's real. If it terrifies the living hell out of us, it's "real" enough.

"Skinamarink" takes place inside a typical suburban home, where two young children wake up in the middle of the night and discover their father is gone, the television is on, the lights are off, and the windows have disappeared. So have the doors that lead outside. Their house is now a purgatorial void. All they know is they have toys and distractions, and occasionally a voice tells them to do things, like go upstairs and see something terrifying or harm themselves.

It has been argued that "Skinamarink," which takes place entirely in a liminal space our subconscious wants to fill, might only be a dream or a metaphor. But real or not, the entity that abducts these children, steals their mouths, and leads them to a shocking end is a nightmare that we can't get out of our own heads, where it is likely to live forever. (William Bibbiani)

Steven Spielberg delivered perhaps one of the most universal terrors in cinema history in 1975 with "Jaws." Not only did he essentially create the summer blockbuster as we know it, but "Jaws" introduced us to one of the most terrifying monsters to ever grace the silver screen. So what made the shark affectionately known as Bruce so terrifying? This was a little too close to reality to be comfortable.

It all starts with that famous tagline, "You'll never go in the water again." Virtually anyone who has ever seen "Jaws" has likely experienced a moment of hesitation before setting foot in a big body of water. What lies just below the surface? Is there some beast full of razor-sharp teeth looking for an easy meal? It's a combination of the very real, as sharks have been around for millions of years, and the unknown that lies just out of sight that makes Bruce so viscerally terrifying. It certainly doesn't hurt that the shark itself is monstrous, not to mention the impact of John Williams' iconic theme, but the fact that so much of the horror and death is about what we aren't seeing is what makes it so horrifying. 

Sometimes our imaginations can fill in those gaps better than anything tangible ever could. (Ryan Scott)

In the sea of scary killer clowns, there's one that dons a monochrome onesie and a creepy grimace while on the hunt for victims. He doesn't speak a word — he mimes, swinging to unpredictable extremes while toying with his targets, the silence intensifying the brutality with which he tortures and mutilates. This demented killer, Art the Clown, first debuted in a short titled "The 9th Circle," and after appearances in several horror anthologies, he is now the beating heart of the "Terrifier" franchise. While Art's mere presence onscreen is enough to induce genuine fear, his murder rampage in "Terrifier" cements him as a new, yet formidable movie monster with an edge.

The most terrifying aspect of Art's personality is the lack of motivation behind his brutal killings: his targets are random, and his methods for torture are as whimsical as his mimes. We know next to nothing about his origins and the true nature of his abilities, which are undoubtedly supernatural, despite the grounded, albeit theatrical nature of the kills. There are no shades of grey when it comes to Art, as the killer clown is solely driven by the sadistic urge to indulge in vile acts and brutal extremes. (Debopriyaa Dutta)

Jordan Peele takes our love of spectacle into an absolute nightmare in "Nope," exploring the price of art and entertainment and the lengths we go to try and control nature for the sake of "the perfect shot" through the lens of a creature feature. Initially presented as a UFO, Peele frames the alien entity referred to as Jean Jacket like the shark from "Jaws," mostly hidden among the clouds. Though we don't get a good look at it for most of the film, we never stop feeling the presence of Jean Jacket, nor seeing the consequences of its actions.

The scariest scene in the movie shows a cowboy show that goes horribly wrong, with shots of people covered in viscera and being slowly digested inside the creature. Plus, the alien changes and transforms throughout the film, like an Angel from "Neon Genesis Evangelion," adding to its mystery and also to its horror, as we never even begin to comprehend what it is or how it works. Though new to the scene, Jean Jacket made one memorable impression that will stick with us for years to come. (Rafael Motamayor)

Coraline Jones' mom is a total buzzkill. She almost never lets Coraline do what she wants and is too busy doing boring adult things with her husband to give Coraline the attention she craves. So, when Coraline ventures to the Other World and meets her Other Mother, she's immediately enthralled. Other Mother makes her delicious foods and encourages her to check out the wonders of the Other World, which is just like Coraline's world but more colorful and way more fun. One day, her Other Mother tells Coraline she can stay there forever if she wants.

All she has to do is sew a pair of buttons over her eyes, like everyone else in Other World.

"Coraline" is a story about how growing up isn't as scary as it seems, but it's also a story about how being trapped as a child forever would actually be horrifying. The Other Mother, aka the Bedlam, and her request perfectly embodies that horror. As unnerving as the Bedlam is when she eventually reveals her true form (with her spidery build, cracked face, and clawed fingers), it's the smiling, relentlessly perky facade she adapts to deceive Coraline that's truly unsettling. (Sandy Schaefer)

With orange footie pajamas, a smiling, stitched burlap scarecrow face with button eyes, and a little sack in his hands, Sam might seem like a cute trick or treater. But the longer you stare at him, the scarier he becomes, especially when you notice that sharp pumpkin lollipop he's carrying around. For most of "Trick 'r Treat," Sam is merely an observer of the gnarly events unfolding on Halloween, but his presence becomes more and more ominous as the series of tragic stories continues. It's not until Sam gets his own segment that his horrifying nature becomes clear.

Underneath Sam's burlap head-covering is a nasty mix of a skull and a jack-o'-lantern, his flesh looking like the interior of a pumpkin, his teeth sharp and crooked. Not even the blast of a shotgun can take him down; Sam can reanimate and continues on his mission, which seems to be enforcing the rules of Halloween. In this case, Sam just wants to make sure that the old curmudgeonly Kreeg (Brian Cox) is handing out candy to the neighborhood kids, so he punishes him with a candy bar hiding a concealed razor blade before going on his way and letting Kreeg live. Trick or treat, indeed! (Ethan Anderton)

Many of the monsters on this list are terrifying in their own way, but the Deadites from the "Evil Dead" franchise are exceptionally scary because they were once the people our heroes knew and loved. Starting with "The Evil Dead" in 1981, Deadites have become possessed by the evil released from the Book of the Dead when someone reads aloud from the book. Ash (Bruce Campbell), Mia (Jane Levy), and Beth (Lily Sullivan) must each do battle with their loved ones after they've become monstrous, like having to put someone down after they've become a zombie but much, much worse.

Deadites are servants of evil, tormenting the un-possessed around them with cruel words and vicious attacks while also rending their own flesh in a variety of gruesome ways. There's almost no way to stop a Deadite either, as Ash learns when his girlfriend's head continues to mock him after being severed from her body. It's tough enough to fight undead monsters from hell, but when they used to be your girlfriend, brother, or mom? That's absolutely brutal. (Danielle Ryan) 

Regardless of whether someone watches the Japanese "Ringu" or the American remake, "The Ring," chances are they're going to be terrified of a little girl with long black hair. Sadako, or Samara in her American iteration, is a ghostly figure whose voice tells people they will die in seven days after they watch a cursed videotape. She's on the VHS, crawling out of a well with her long hair over her eyes, and she eventually crawls right out of the television screen and into the reality of the movie in a sequence that is utterly surreal.

Sadako doesn't have to say much beyond the old "seven days" line, because she's perfectly horrifying all on her own. There's something innately creepy about children in long gowns, and Sadako's feral movements and Cousin Itt-style hair make her even creepier. Samara and Sadako both went on to star in several sequels in their respective franchises, and Sadako even got the chance to duke it out with Kayako from "Ju-On" for "Sadako vs. Kayako" — a true duel of terror. (Danielle Ryan)

To many Spencer's Gifts patrons, Chucky is a friend 'till the end. To others, he's a devil doll whose cackle echoes through countless nightmares. Serial killer Charles Lee Ray becomes the horror icon we know and fear when transfers his soul into the rubbery vessel of a Good Guy doll. Brad Dourif plays the "Lakeshore Strangler" and lends his voice to Chucky in plaything form, defining his career as the most seasoned slasher villain since Chucky's debut in 1988's "Child's Play." Dourif's the only one who's played the demented doll in Mancini's ongoing canon and there's no end in sight with "Chucky" season 2 on the way.

"But Chucky's a jokester slasher and two-feet-tall!" Valid points, but Chucky's stitched Frankenstein style unveiled in "Bride Of Chucky" is unsettling and grotesque. He goes from a walking, talking evil doll to a terrifying monster. Laugh all you want, but the Chucky fear is real — innocence bastardized into maniacal malevolence in a red-headed package. 

Dolls are supposed to be cute and cuddly, not possessed by wanted criminals. Chucky makes us fear what we should love, and for that reason alone, he's a scary story legend. (Matt Donato)

As Bela Lugosi famously said as the vampiric Count Dracula, "There are far worse things awaiting man than death." The legacy of the Universal Monsters films spans nearly a century, but it all began with the vampire classic, 1931's "Dracula." 

The true terror of Bela Lugosi's performance as the Count is not in jump scares or dramatic makeup effects, but rather in how undeniably electric he is on screen, able to successfully lull us into his trap with a well-placed smile and the delicate raise of an eyebrow. His vocal pattern has become the default for what Count Dracula should sound like, providing the perfect combination of creepiness and captivation. 

The character has been reinterpreted by a multitude of actors including Christopher Lee, Lon Chaney Jr., Gary Oldman, and even the puppeteers on "Sesame Street," but Bela Lugosi is the defining Dracula who paved the way for all future bloodsuckers and children of the night. (BJ Colangelo)

In "Sinister," another child-eating horror monster is introduced to the silver screen. The film tells the story of a true-crime novelist who accidentally unleashes Bughuul, an angry pagan deity that devours the souls of children. Don't be fooled because Bughuul is not your average child-eating monster; he possesses children and influences them to murder their families in some seriously gruesome ways. Once they've committed the crime, the creature transports the children to the netherworld, where he slowly consumes their souls. 

With blotchy gray skin and shoulder-length black hair, Bughuul takes a human-like form. You might mistake him for a human before getting a glimpse of his dreadful face — he even wears a suit. It was thought that he possessed children through images, from frescoes to film reels. What makes Bughuul so dangerous beyond his ability to control the minds and souls of children is his longevity and adaptability. The Eater of Children's origins can be traced back to Babylonian times, when he was once accused of religious plagiarism after replicating his brother Moloch's child sacrifice rituals ... which caused the latter to shut his mouth with ash for eternity. (Fatemeh Mirjalili)

Some monsters are so terrifying that even saying their name is considered playing a dangerous game. For Daniel Robitaille, the titular "Candyman," saying his name is a death sentence. A tragedy turned revenge tale about the son of a slave who fell in love with a white woman and was killed by a racist mob in the 1800s. The vile villagers chopped off his right hand and smeared him with honeycomb, attracting bees which stung him to death. They burned his corpse on a pyre, which later became the site of the Cabrini-Green housing projects in Chicago, IL.

Now, he haunts the area as an urban legend boogeyman, his exposed chest a hive for bees that pour out through his mouth. His severed arm has been affixed with a hook, and if you dare say his name in the mirror, the unlucky caller will feel his rightful vengeance. Played by the incomparable Tony Todd, the equal parts terrifying and hypnotic bass voice of the Candyman makes him an irresistible force. We should see the bees and hook and run in terror, but few can resist his allure. Don't worry, I only wrote his name four times. (BJ Colangelo)

The original "Hellraiser" is a genuinely scary, goopy, gory horror movie with a wonderfully demented premise. The original film doesn't officially introduce audiences to Pinhead, the most recognizable of the extra-dimensional sickos called Cenobites. He gets more time to shine later, but initially, viewers are subjected to a whole league of supernatural sadomasochists. The Cenobites appear when daring humans seek out pleasures beyond their capacity, as Frank (Sean Chapman) does in the 1987 film. His escapades don't quite work out, as he loses his human body in a deeply disgusting way after beckoning the Cenobites with a magic puzzle box.

Although the Cenobites' torturous impact can be deeply disturbing, the dudes themselves are as entertaining as they are scary. With lipless bared teeth, mutated heads, and, of course, pins stuck through their faces, the Cenobites are like eldritch body mod freaks with a knack for rending flesh from bones. Over the series' 10 movies and counting, they're a persistently dangerous — and admittedly cool-looking — presence. (Valerie Ettenhofer)

There have been many on-screen versions of the Frankenstein Creature, but they all live in the shadow of Boris Karloff's towering performance in 1931's "Frankenstein," directed with gothic gusto by James Whale. Karloff's look for the character, — the flat head, the scars, the bolts in the neck, all created by legendary makeup man Jack Pierce — is the very definition of "iconic." But it's Karloff's sad, soulful performance that makes the character sing and ensures his place in film history. Karloff understood that the Creature is a tragic character; yes, he's scary, but he's also inherently sad — a lonely, rejected figure brought into this world against his will (as all of us are). Cursed to terrify anyone he gets close to, the Creature stalks the foggy studio soundstage woods, alone and angry at a world he doesn't understand, a world that doesn't understand him in turn. And Karloff conveys all of this without uttering a single word (in the first movie, at least). (Chris Evangelista)

Regardless of whether you find clowns threatening, you have to agree that Bill Skaskarg's iteration of Pennywise the dancing clown from "It" (2017) is one of the most menacing, terrifying creatures to grace the horror genre. The otherworldly, trans-dimensional evil entity that preys upon the innocent young children of Derry, Maine, is the overarching antagonist of Stephen King's 1986 horror novel of the same name. The clown lives in the sewers in the town of Derry, using them as access points to lure his victims into his hideout. 

The shape-shifting monster embodies every child's worst nightmare — the creature feeds off of their fears and weaponizes them. Pennywise's many forms are frightening, as the film sees him shape-shift into a mummy, an abusive father, a creepy painting, and a decapitated boy, just to name a few examples. The ancient entity can transform into anything to elicit a sense of fear in its victims. It assumes these forms to inspire as much terror as possible ... because simply butchering them is not enough. (Fatemeh Mirjalili)

This entry really only needs three words: he's the Boogeyman. Michael Myers holds an esteemed place in the horror baddie pantheon by virtue of being one of the earliest and simplest slasher icons — pre-Jason Voorhees, pre-Freddy Kreuger. 

Originally titled "The Babysitter Murders," John Carpenter's 1978 film "Halloween" established the coverall-wearing, blade-wielding killer as a silent, stalking force of evil. "The Shape," as he's known in Carpenter and Debra Hill's script, killed his older sister on Halloween night of 1963 when he was a child, and following a lengthy stay in a mental institution, Michael escapes and returns to Haddonfield for more slicing and dicing. 

Stare into his shock-white mask to see what Dr. Loomis (the Ahab to the elusive Myers' white whale) called "the blackest eyes, the Devil's eyes." Few have gotten that close and lived to tell the tale, though. 

Only appearing on one night of the year in one specific town, but so un-killable as to prompt a slew of sequels and re-quels, Myers is more myth than man at this point. (Anya Stanley)

As one of the most well-known and revered horror movies, John Carpenter's 1982 classic "The Thing" barely requires an introduction. But the Cliffs Notes version follows a team of American researchers in Antarctica led by R.J. MacReady (played by Kurt Russell), befouled by a parasitic alien organism that mimics the form of whatever life it consumes. 

It's hard to say what the creature's true form is since it incorporates its victims and imitates them. That's part of the film's tension; Childs (Keith David) asks, "If I was an imitation, a perfect imitation, how would you know it was really me?" But the Thing of "The Thing" is the scariest mid-transformation, when uncanny faces and clearly human organic matter mix and mingle with tentacles and foreign goo. One of the movie's greatest scenes puts Rob Bottin and his fx team's skills on display as the organism, hiding within a now-dead researcher, swiftly eliminates a threat and divides itself to ensure its own survival. The sight of the researcher's head, now sporting arachnid legs and antennae, only gets one vocal response from Palmer: "You gotta be f***ing kidding." (Anya Stanley)