Strange: Junji Ito's Tales for Sleepless Nights

A slow creep of dread, each short tale leaving an uneasy image that lingers after the screen goes dark.

A slow, unsettling descent into ancient woods where dread builds quietly and the past feels alive and hungry.

A grim, true-crime dramatization that lingers on the unsettling details of notorious killers and their victims.

A suffocating, dread-soaked watch where every nightfall tightens the grip and hope feels dangerously expensive.

A creeping, rule-bound nightmare that traps you in fluorescent limbo, where every small mistake feels fatal and the past refuses to stay buried.

A slow-burning, nerve-jangling puzzle that keeps you leaning in, with a chilly small-town atmosphere and a constant sense of dread.

A slow-creeping anthology of bizarre, unsettling images that linger long after each short episode ends.

A meticulously crafted, unsettling anthology that feels like opening a series of ornate, cursed boxes, each revealing a different, beautifully grim nightmare.

A slow, suffocating descent into institutional dread, where every corridor and face feels like a quiet threat.

A deceptively sunny small-town idyll that curdles into paranoia, dread and shocking violence, demanding close attention to piece together its puzzle.

A tense, twisty island mystery that keeps you leaning forward, looping back on itself with creeping dread and sudden violence.

Each episode delivers a self-contained shock of dread, mixing campy thrills with genuinely unsettling imagery and a lingering sense of unease.