"They took her for ransom. But she took them for dinner."
Abigail (2025) is a savage ballet of fear — elegant, twisted, and soaked in dread. It's Home Alone if home was a Gothic mansion… and the child was a centuries-old vampire.
When a group of seasoned criminals kidnap a quiet 12-year-old ballerina named Abigail (Alisha Weir), they think it’s an easy payday. No witnesses. A secure mansion. Just babysit the daughter of a powerful figure for 24 hours while the ransom clears. But as night falls and the house begins to creak in unfamiliar ways, one thing becomes horrifyingly clear: they're the ones being hunted.
Abigail is not innocent. She's not helpless. She doesn’t cry, she watches. She doesn’t run, she floats. And when the power dies and the screams begin, the captors realize — they didn’t kidnap a girl. They freed something that should’ve stayed locked away.
Each room becomes a trap. Each corridor a crypt. As the group dwindles, paranoia and guilt set in. Who’s next? Who deserves this? And most terrifying of all: how long has she been playing this game?
Directed with a slick mix of horror, style, and dark fairy tale surrealism, Abigail doesn’t just drain your blood — it drains your expectations. Because sometimes the real monster isn’t hiding under the bed. She's sitting on it, smiling.
