"Trapped by rising waters and hunted from below, survival means trusting the untrustable—and fearing what swims in silence."
A deadly storm. An isolated prison. And hungry alligators swimming through the flooded halls. The Flood (2023) doesn’t need ghosts or viruses to terrify you—it just needs a rusty door, a strange ripple in the water, and the simple fact that you can’t run, can’t hide, and can’t swim fast enough.
When humans become prey—and also the most dangerous predators
The film opens with a transport team moving high-risk prisoners through Louisiana as a Category 5 hurricane barrels in. Forced to take refuge in an abandoned prison, they soon find themselves not alone.
A pack of alligators—swept in by the flooding—makes its way through the sewer systems.
Doors are locked. Communications are down.
And the enemy isn’t the prisoner anymore—it’s the creature with a hundred teeth and no conscience.
The gators are terrifying—but not as much as what fear does to people
The film cleverly blurs the moral line, forcing inmates and officers to cooperate for survival. But trust breaks quickly. In the black water, you can’t see what’s closest to you:
Is it the monster with claws—or the one holding a gun behind your back?
No backup. No plans. Just instincts—and a hell of a lot of blood
The Flood channels the survival-action energy of Anaconda, Crawl, and Deep Blue Sea, but adds real-time pressure in a claustrophobic, drowning facility.
You fight with bullets, fists—or a pair of handcuffs, if that’s all you’ve got.
No philosophy. No pretense.
Just panicked breaths, blood in the water, and one question: Who survives the night?
Nature has turned. Humanity is unraveling. And what’s under the water… was never human.