My wife is in love with Squishmallows.

For those of you who don’t know, they’re basically these pillow/stuffed animal inventions that come in different designs, resembling animals and aliens, plants and mushrooms, with cute faces and little backstories for each one. They are stuffed and sewn together with a proprietary material that is especially soft and plush. Some people get really obsessed with them and they have been compared at times to Beanie Babies or other very popular, trendy novelty items. People resell them at a ridiculous profit, because when someone wants a specific Squishmallow, they’re often willing to pay top dollar for it.

My wife Christine has thirty of them stacked on a shelf in our living room, in various designs, shapes, colors, and sizes, but some people have entire rooms devoted to the stuffed creations. The designs are pretty cute and I’m happy she has a hobby. I buy her a new Squishmallow sometimes when I’m at the store. They sell them pretty much everywhere now, but they used to be more difficult to find.

When I tried to figure out what Christine wanted for her birthday, I got the impression she wanted one particular Squishmallow. She hinted at it, not outright asking.

Finding a specific Squishmallow isn’t always easy, since some are more rare than others. Apparently the most uncommon ones sell for as high as two thousand dollars. Luckily she didn’t want one of those.

The one she wanted looked like a big black spider with a weird smile, so I began looking online for it. None of the stores nearby had it, of course, that would have been too easy. But eventually I found a seller on EBay and purchased it, requesting the express shipping so the Squishmallow spider would arrive before her birthday. They had a few other ones that looked pretty unique too, so I bought them as well. They were all a little creepy-looking, but that was okay, since Christine loves horror and creepy shit, just like I do.

Time went by and eventually the package arrived. I didn’t unbox the stuffed animals, instead just wrapping up the brown cardboard box they’d come in.

When her birthday came around, I showed Christine the big wrapped box and a huge smile stretched across her face. The present was massive, covered in Squishmallow wrapping paper.

I watched as she unwrapped it, practically vibrating with excitement. She gasped when she saw the size of the one on top.

“You got the twenty-four inch one! Where did you find it!?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets. Is that the one you wanted?”

She took it out and inspected it more closely, and I saw her expression drop. The smile disappeared.

“What? What is it? Is that not the right one?”

Christine began to turn the stuffed animal around. I could tell she was disappointed, but I didn’t understand why. She’d never been a great gift-receiver, and never showed a big reaction, but I thought this time I’d really nailed it. I thought she’d be ecstatic.

“Uhh, it’s great,” was all she said at first. But I could tell she was disappointed.

“What? What is it?”

“This sucks to say, I know you probably worked hard on this. But it’s fake,” she said, standing up and carrying the large stuffed animal over to me with an annoying, know-it-all smile.

“I saw someone talking about these online. There's no tag, and see this little marking? I'm sorry. It’s a knock-off. It’s cute, though. I still like it!”

I could tell she didn’t.

Taking it out of her hands, I examined it closely. I hadn't thought about the details much at the time of purchase, but she was right. Usually the toys came with a little tag telling their story. And it looked a bit strange, too. Not cute like the regular ones. This one was creepy-looking, with a sharp, jagged-toothed smile.

“Can you check the other ones?” I asked, feeling a little sick to my stomach. “I bought you a few more.”

“Oh no… How much did you pay for all these?” she asked.

“Not much,” I lied.

She took them all out of the box and started examining them. A creepy skeleton, a green ghost, a witch, and a black owl with glowing white eyes stared up at her. The longer I looked at them the more obvious it became that they weren’t right. Their proportions were all wrong, their faces malevolent and mean. They were actually disturbing-looking. There was loose stitching and a few stains here and there on them. One of the stains was brownish-red, like old, dried blood.

“They’re… Great… Thank you,” my wife stuttered awkwardly. “I like them. Really. I’ll put them up there with the others. On the shelf.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can contact the seller on EBay. I’ll get a refund. I’ll get you the real ones.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” my wife insisted, putting them with the rest of her collection. “They’re kinda… quirky. It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”

She kissed me on the cheek, smiling weakly.

“I love them. Really.”

Weeks passed and nothing much really happened with the Squishmallows. They sat there on the shelf gathering dust and my wife didn’t take them down to play with them or even look at them. It was further proof to me that she didn’t like them as much as the others, and I couldn’t blame her.

It wasn’t just that they were knock-offs. They were downright disturbing. I noticed she was tucking them further and further towards the back, hiding them behind the others. I was quietly glad for that, since they creeped me out, and every time I walked by the shelf they caught my eye. The big black spider was particularly unsettling for some reason, and its dull, vacant glass eyes always felt like they were watching me. Its spindly arms always seemed to be waving at me slightly in the breeze.

One night when I was up late watching TV, I saw something moving on the ceiling in the hallway. Those black, glassy eyes reflecting back at me, catching a hint of glow from the television screen. Whatever it was blended with the shadows and crawled away, disappearing into the darkness. I couldn't make out the details, but I got the impression of a huge black spider, its body a bloated, sagging orb as large as a beach ball.

My heart beating fast, I turned on all the lights, searching the apartment for whatever I thought I saw. After finding no trace of it, I redoubled my efforts, feeling like I couldn't be safe again until I found whatever that thing was. I eventually went to the shelf and looked at the spider I'd purchased for Christine. I stared at it for a long, long time. Its smile looked like it had grown even wider than before. It looked very pleased with itself.

I decided I would contact the seller, regardless of what Christine said, and ask for a refund. More than anything, I just wanted those THINGS out of my house.

After typing out a message, I hit send.

I waited for days but there was no reply. There was no indication the message had even been seen.

The return address on the package indicated that the seller lived in the city at least, and I decided to drive to the house to knock on the door.

I was tired of people taking advantage of me. Tired of strangers online who thought they could get away with robbing and cheating innocent people. In case you hadn’t guessed already - this was not the first time I’d been swindled by an online bargain. There was that whole Instagram fiasco. And don’t even get me started on the laptop I bought from Wish.com

The house was on the other end of town, across the river. A bridge separated the west side of Hollow’s End from the rest of town, and I usually avoided going over there, since I’d had a few bad experiences on that side of the city. But this time I figured I'd make an exception.

When I pulled up outside the house I saw it was dark inside, except for a flickering light in one room - probably the living room judging by its location near the front of the house, with a big picture window overlooking the front lawn.

I went up to the front door and knocked, carrying the huge box full of knockoff Squishmallows in my arms. Their weight seemed to shift and change, as if they were alive inside the sealed box, and I imagined a knife or a sharp claw suddenly slicing through the packing tape at the top, and the Squishmallow spider and all of its friends clambering out and attacking me.

But of course that didn't happen. This was real life, not Chucky 7: Revenge of the Satanic Squishmallows.

Still, no one was answering the door. And the flashing lights coming through the window in sporadic bursts reminded me in an unsettling way of Poltergeist - or some other horror movie whose name I had forgotten.

I knocked again, louder this time.

No answer.

Someone was definitely home, though. The flashing lights and noise from inside told me as much.

I leaned the box against the door for a second, just to give myself a break since it was so awkward, when I noticed the door was swinging open by itself.

Whether it was just poorly latched or whether someone had opened it, I wasn't sure. But I couldn't see anyone inside. All I could see was darkness. And I thought I heard someone speaking from up ahead, in another room.

Thinking they might be telling me to come inside, I pushed the door open further and took a tentative step through the entryway, my heart hammering fast.

"Hello?" I called out. "Is anybody there?"

The voice continued speaking from up ahead, getting faster now, more emotional. It was a man, and he sounded desperate. It sounded like he was pleading for his life.

Taking slow steps forward, I walked deeper into the dark house.

I didn't even notice when the door quietly clicked shut behind me, and locked itself.

As I got closer to the room with the glowing, flashing lights I'd seen from outside, I realized it was the same room where I heard the voice speaking. It sounded even more desperate now.

"Please. I'll do anything. I'm sorry."

A whispering voice spoke back to him, sounding like it was talking in another language.

It sounded angry. Demanding.

The box in my hands suddenly began to rattle and shake violently, and it sounded like something was stabbing the cardboard box from inside. Something sharp cut my palm and I dropped the box, crying out in pain.

My rational mind was telling me that was a staple, and that the box wasn't moving by itself, there was simply something inside that had tipped off balance.

Stuffed animals DON'T come to life. That DOESN'T HAPPEN. Whatever this is, it isn’t happening.

"Who's there!?" The voice shouted.

With no choice now except to come clean, I announced my presence.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to sneak in. Your door was open and I heard voices in here. I bought some Squishmallows from you online, and…"

Everything happened all at once after that.

I went through the doorway and as I did I saw the portal in the center of the living room, glowing blue and flashing. It was swirling and pulsating with light, hidden behind clouds that were being blown around violently in a vortex.

I took a step backward when something crawled out of the portal on all fours. It looked horrifying and wrong. It was bleeding and appeared injured - its alien face twisted in a mask of rage and pain. It’s difficult to explain what it looked like exactly - because it didn’t resemble anything from this world.

The closest comparison would be a hairless hyena cross-bred with a goblin.

As it scrambled out from the portal it shook the blood from its haunches like a dog coming in from the rain, splattering the walls and ceiling of the room with gore.

A voice in the shadows spoke in that same strange language and the creature began to change.

It was a shapeshifter, I realized. And it was taking on the form of things it could see in the living room.

For the first time, I noticed the Squishmallows. With all the chaos happening and in the flickering darkness of the room I hadn’t seen them at first, but now that I noticed them they were impossible to ignore. The Squishmallows were everywhere. The walls were covered with them. Shelves had been installed going from floor to ceiling on every wall in the room, and they were filled with the trendy stuffed toys. Ranging in bright yellows, oranges, and reds - to black Halloween-themed ones like those I had in my box. The only difference was, these were real. They weren’t knockoffs.

All of the Squishmallows were splattered with blood, though. Completely ruined now. Copious layers of dried blood could be seen in various places throughout the room, coating everything.

“You shouldn’t have come here…” the man said, and I realized he was injured. He was clutching his face as red liquid seeped out from between his fingers.

It looked like he was trying to hold his face on.

“YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE COME HERE!!!!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “LEAVE! RUN! BEFORE THEY TAKE YOUR FUCKING BODY!”

I spun around, my heart beating so hard it was threatening to burst from my chest, and saw the box which I’d been holding was now bursting open. The massive black spider crawled out first, climbing out of the box and making its way straight at me.

It raced across the floor like a wolf spider, clambering up my leg and releasing a fine spool of webbing behind it. The thing made its way around my legs in circles, attempting to tie me up while I screamed and kicked, thrashing and batting at it with my fists.

More of those hairless goblin-hyena creatures were crawling out of the portal, looking like they were straight out of a Dark Souls game. Bloodied and howling in agony, they pulled themselves through the gateway and shook themselves off, just as the previous one had done.

However they were getting here, only one or two were able to come through at a time - and at great cost to themselves.

The alien voice spoke again from the shadows and this time the creatures coming from the portal didn’t change shape right away. Instead, they came at me. Crawling at first, attempting to rise to their feet but unable to, they made their way faster and faster towards me.

“You need to run..” the man said weakly, his face a bloodied ruin. He took his hands away and the skin fell away to the floor like a Halloween mask. Blood poured out and ran down his neck, soaking his white shirt.

He grabbed the spider Squishmallow from my pants and tore it free from me, while it hissed and tried to bite him. I saw it puncture the skin with several quick attacks, and he dropped it to the floor. The massive spider skittered away, disappearing into the shadows.

His hand rapidly swelling with unknown poisons, the man began attempting to free me from the spider web I was wrapped up in. His flesh ballooned and yellow pus began to seep out from the sores as he struggled to remain conscious.

Finally, I was free.

I didn’t dare turn around to look and see how close those things from the portal were. I could hear them and knew they were close enough to almost reach out and grab me. One of their bloody fingers brushed against my leg as I just evaded its grasp, bolting for the exit.

When I reached the door, it was locked.

A key was required to open it, which I didn’t have, and I knew I was fucked.

Except for that picture window in the living room. That was my only shot. Right back into the lion’s den.

The bloodied, crawling, goblin-hyena things were just at my heels, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw them coming at me. I was cornered, in the entryway of the house with nowhere to go.

And once again the man came to my rescue.

His face a blood-soaked mask of muscle tissue, he screamed as he lifted a chair from the living room and hurled it through the air, where it landed with a heavy crash on top of one of the creatures. The other one was stunned momentarily, just long enough for me to leap over it and race back into the living room.

I ran through the darkness and heard the gasp of the man who had saved me when he saw what I was about to do.

“NO!” he shouted.

But it was too late.

I leapt through the huge picture window and it shattered against the top of my skull - the pain of the impact far worse than anything I could have imagined. Broken glass rained down all around me as I landed on the glass in a heap, clutching my bloodied scalp.

Scrambling to my feet I began to run, too terrified to look back.

The screams of outrage coming from the house were surprising, and confusing to say the least. I didn’t understand why the guy who had saved my life was so mad all of a sudden.

It wasn’t until I got home and looked in my email again, this time taking a moment to look in the “spam” folder, that I realized the man HAD actually gotten back to me. The day I sent my email, he’d replied almost immediately.

My sincere apologies for the mix-up. Those toys were not meant to be sent out, and I would be more than happy to replace them with the correct toys. Please send them back to me IMMEDIATELY. I am concerned that they may be hazardous… Due to the materials they were made with. I need to keep them contained. I need to keep them here. I’ll sell all of my collection to survive, if I have to, but they CANNOT know that there is a world outside of this house. I MUST CONTAIN THEM. YOU MUST SEND THEM BACK TO ME NOW. BE VERY CAREFUL UNTIL YOU DO. DO NOT TRUST THEM. DO NOT BE IN DARKNESS WITH TeHM THEY LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THE DARKNESS THATS THATS WHERE THATS WHWERE THEY THRIVE WHERE THEYRE FROM BE AFRAID BE AFRAI BDEDEDDDD BE BE BE BE BEBEBEBE

Shuddering, I closed the email. I didn’t delete it, worried I might need it one day. For what purpose I didn’t know.

But one thing was for sure.

The man who sold me those knock-off Squishmallows had the situation contained. The shapeshifters, the living toys, he had figured out a way to convince them that was all that existed on this side of the portal. He convinced them his house was our entire world. And then I shattered his window.

And let those THINGS out into the world.

JG

TCC