I was on my third glass on wine on a lonely Friday night when I ordered him.

The website seemed fairly innocent—it gave off an old-timey matchmaker vibe, when blind dates were coordinated by people rather than algorithms. We’ll find the perfect man for you. Sign up today to find him!

I did.

And was more than a bit surprised when a six-foot-long box showed up on my doorstep the next morning.

OPEN IMMEDIATELY, read the warning written on the side in big red letters. And there were holes in the cardboard—several of them, near the top of the box. Are those… air holes?

My dog Ruby slunk out of the house behind me. She began sniffing the box like mad, as if there were something very interesting inside.

No… there’s no way…

I ripped open the box with a pounding heart—

And burst out laughing.

At the bottom of the box was one of those stupid “grow a boyfriend” gag gifts. You know the ones: you put a little plastic man in water, and it grows to several times its size. I’d seen them at my local CVS for Valentine’s day.

I’d been pranked.

I picked up the thing. It was a little man about six inches tall, with impressive biceps and pecs, made of a spongy plastic material. All one color—a medium pink-beige. Even his eyes were that color, which was a little creepy.

“Well, aren’t you handsome?”

I put him next to my computer. The fact that I’d drunk-bought a plastic boyfriend was actually pretty funny, when you really thought about it.

And a little sad.

I immediately texted my mom and told her I’d meet her friend’s son she kept raving about.

***

That evening, I ate a steak dinner for one as I continued to work on my proposal. And there sat the plastic, fleshy little man, watching me with his fleshy little eyes.

“What are you staring at?”

It stared back with those soulless, beige eyes.

“Yeah, kind of lame that I’m sitting here alone on a Saturday night, huh?” I sighed and glanced over at Ruby. “Look at me. Talking to an inanimate object. I’ve gone batshit crazy, huh?”

She didn’t look up from her chew toy.

Out of sheer boredom, I went into the kitchen and filled a bowl with water. Took him out of his package and plopped him in. But even after a half hour had passed, he only grew about an inch taller.

“Guess you’re a shower, not a grower,” I said with a snort.

But that night, before I went to bed, I forgot to pour out the water.

***

I woke up with a start at 4 AM.

It only took me a few seconds to realize what woke me up. There were strange sounds coming from downstairs. A sloshing sound—and then a loud THUMP.

I bolted up in bed.

Someone’s in the house.

I’d always had a fear of something like this happening. Masked men breaking into the house in the middle of the night. Killing me in my sleep. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and clutched it to my chest, straining my ears to listen.

THUMP.

Oh God. He was coming up the stairs.

I threw off the blankets and ran into the closet. Closed the doors and held my breath, watching through the slats as I silently dialed 911.

The door opened.

A man stepped inside. But there was something… off… about his movements. Jerky, clumsy, like he didn’t quite know how to walk. I held the phone to my ear, whispering my address into the speaker—

His head swiveled towards the closet.

And every muscle in my body froze.

His eyes… they were that awful beige color. Like they were made of skin. As I stared at him, I realized his hair, too—everything—he was beige all over, from his head down to his toes.

A man made entirely of plasticky flesh.

I stifled a scream. Held the phone to my ear, praying he wouldn’t come look in the closet…

He stood in the middle of the room, his gaze sweeping over each wall. He paused when his eyes fell on the closet. Slowly, he turned in my direction.

And then he took a step forward.

I held my breath as he took another step. And another. No no no. And then he was there—right outside the doors—

He paused.

And leaned forward.

Through the slats I saw him looking at me. Looking at me with those terrible, flesh-covered eyes. Thin veins spiderwebbed across the skin, across where his pupils should be. But somehow… he could see me. I could feel it, feel him staring, waiting—

A siren wailed in the distance.

He turned around and slipped out of the door.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

I heard his footsteps recede down the stairs—and then he was gone.

***

The police found no trace of the man I’d seen. I told them about my order, and showed them the email confirmation—but when I tried to click on the website, it gave me an error message.

Whoever had sold me that thing… had completely vanished.

A few days went by and I thought that was the end of it. I’d even convinced myself that it had been some sort of waking nightmare, and what I’d seen never even happened.

But then I got another package.

This one didn’t have an address on it. Whoever dropped it off on my porch had hand-delivered it. And it was small—only about six inches long.

With shaking hands I reached down and picked it up.

The smell hit me like a truck as I brought it up to my face. Slowly, I lifted the lid and peered inside—

It was a heart. It looked like it had been torn out of a small animal. Dark liquid pooled at the corners of the container, and I fought the urge to vomit.

Only then did I notice the trail of large footprints in the snow, leading away from my porch.

I think he’s going to keep coming back…

I think he likes me.