THRASH (2026) | Official Trailer

Phoebe Dynevor, Whitney Peak, Djimon Hounsou

Survival Thriller / Action / Creature Horror

“If the flood doesn’t kill you…”

The rain does not wash away the ruin of the world… it only raises the tide. Where asphalt and monuments once dictated the flow of humanity, a sudden, violent ocean has rushed in, painting the avenues in a thick, terrifying crimson. The fractured dome of the Capitol building stands as a drowning tombstone, half-swallowed by an ancient, unrelenting force. There is no rescue coming. There is only the churning water… and the colossal shadows moving beneath it.

Phoebe – The Weight of the Spear

She stands in the wreckage, mud and blood painted across her bruised skin like war paint. The rusted, makeshift harpoon in her hands is heavy, yet she grips it with a terrifying stillness. She is not running anymore. Every scar on her face tells the story of a world that ended yesterday… and a woman who refuses to let today be her last.

Whitney – The High Ground

Trapped atop the rusted shell of a submerged school bus, she watches the ripples. Her stance is tense, muscles coiled tight, eyes scanning the debris-choked waves. She is the guardian of the stranded, the lookout at the edge of the abyss. She understands the cruel math of the flood… one slip into the red water, and you belong to the deep.

Djimon – The Watcher in the Ruins

Perched on a sinking, splintered rooftop, he is a monument of stoic defiance. The storm batters his shoulders, but his gaze cuts through the rain, tracking the dorsal fins that weave between submerged row houses. He knows the rhythm of the hunt. He knows that humanity is no longer the apex predator on this drowning earth.

The water took the world.

They are older than the city, older than the stone columns they now swim past. The leviathans of the deep have been brought to the surface by the cataclysm, their cavernous jaws wide enough to swallow hope itself. They do not hunt with malice… they hunt with the terrifying, indifferent efficiency of nature reclaiming its domain. The smaller scavengers swarm the lifeboats, but it is the behemoth in the distance, rising like a gray mountain against the gray sky, that dictates the final hour.

Don’t look down.

The storm breaks into a violent crescendo just as the desperate survivors in the wooden rowboats strike the water with their oars. Panic fractures the silence. “Capital City Submerged; Apex Predators Claim the Grid,” a fleeting emergency broadcast had warned hours ago, before the power grids died forever. Now, the reality of that headline is a terrifying cacophony of splintering wood, screaming wind, and the thunderous splash of a massive tail breaching the surface. The shared nightmare coalesces into a single, frantic paddle toward the crumbling sanctuary of the Capitol steps.

We bleed, and they follow.

In the final, breathless heartbeat of the surge, the massive jaws eclipse the sky. Yet, in the shadow of total annihilation, a solitary figure raises a jagged spear toward the abyss. The clouds fracture, dropping a single, cold shaft of gray light onto the bloody waters. It does not promise salvation, but in that suspended, impossible second between the monster’s strike and the human’s defiance, a quiet miracle of pure grit is illuminated. They are not just prey… they are fighters.

Primal survival against an untamable, indifferent nature
The fragile vanity of human monuments against the tide of time
The profound sacrifice required when standing at the edge of inevitable depths

When the grand monuments of men are swallowed by the sea, what remains of our humanity but the raw, unyielding instinct to fight?

Keep your head above the red.

The flood may have silenced the world we knew, washing away the borders and the buildings, but it could not drown the human spirit. In the ruins of civilization, amidst the churning teeth and the endless rain, the fire of survival burns brighter than ever.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ A breathless, visceral plunge into the deepest, darkest fears of the human spirit.