If Chip’s unraveling after the crash—and the way the basement door’s 39 screws might be a symptom of trauma or a true haunting—hooked you, you’ll be gripped by A Head Full of Ghosts. It dives deep into a family’s inner turmoil as a father clings to explanations—medical and demonic—while a reality TV exorcism exploits their pain. Like the herbalist women circling Emily and the twins, outside forces press in, but the most chilling moments happen inside the family’s psyche, where belief and fear feed each other.

If the move to that isolated New Hampshire house—complete with a sealed basement and watchful neighbors—made The Night Strangers irresistible, The Winter People gives you that same intimate, snowbound dread. In rural Vermont, a mother and daughters uncover a hidden room and a long-buried diary, much like Emily piecing together the town’s secrets while those friendly “herbalists” grow a bit too interested in her girls. The danger feels next door, and the past presses in until escape seems impossible.

If the basement door’s 39 screws and the whispering presence around Chip felt terrifying precisely because nothing was explained, you’ll love the way The Haunting of Hill House lets the uncanny breathe. Like the way Chip can’t tell whether the crash survivors’ voices are real or products of guilt, Jackson’s characters question whether the house is hungry or the human mind is. No tidy magic system—just an atmosphere that seeps into the walls and the people who dare to listen.

If Chip’s perspective—haunted by the crash and the ghosts that may be calling—made you question every creak behind that sealed basement door, The Little Stranger sharpens that uncertainty. Dr. Faraday narrates with cool precision as a grand estate decays and inexplicable events mount, but his explanations never quite fit—much like Chip’s rationalizations as the herbalist women’s interest in his family turns sinister. You’ll savor the creeping realization that the narrator may be the last person to trust.

If the way The Night Strangers alternates between Chip’s haunted focus and Emily’s wary, investigative eye drew you in—especially as the town’s past intersects with that ominous basement—The Broken Girls delivers a similar mosaic. It weaves a present-day reporter’s search with a 1950s boarding school’s ghostly history, and each timeline reframes the other until the truth clicks into place. As with the herbalists’ smiling masks, the community’s façade hides something far older and far colder.