Chapter 2

At the beginning of the year, Katara had started running a few days a week.

Her advisor, Hama, had suggested it after Katara had broken down in tears in Hama's office over her school workload and the state of her relationship with her then boyfriend. Katara hated it at first, but she found as she kept at it, that she felt free as she ran. For those few miles, she could leave her problems behind her and the distance helped to put them in perspective. On this evening, however, the problems were ahead of her, though she didn't realize it until she got home.

There was a cream envelope addressed to her and stuck to the door of the condo she shared with her brother. At first Katara thought it was an invitation to a party or a wedding, the paper was so nice. Inside was a card the same shade of cream as the envelope, and bordered with red flowers.

My dear Katara- the note greeted. Katara frowned. She didn't recognize the handwriting. It stood in stark contrast to the lovely, expensive looking card. It was sloppy and scratchy and smudged, as if the author had accidentally dragged their hand the wet ink. It made it difficult to read, but Katara tried.

Watching from the shadows

As moonlight dances across your umber skin

One day I will take what's mine

I bask in your light longing to see what's within

Behind your eyes

Beneath your skin

The poem was unsigned. Katara felt an uncomfortable chill run down her spine, and she glanced out of the window by the door. No one was in the street. Still Katara went around the first floor, checking the locks on the front and back doors, and the windows.

If anyone had asked, Katara wouldn't have been able to explain why exactly the poem had left her so unsettled. Maybe it the messy, scrawling writing mixed with the fancy cardstock. It all felt like something she had seen before in a slasher film. Katara laughed at her paranoia as she checked the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. Her heart wouldn't stop pounding. She took out her phone and dialed her brother's number, hoping that he was ready to wake up anyway.

"Why are you talking to me right now?" Sokka demanded after Katara explained why she had woken him before dawn. "Call the cops! Get off the phone with me and call the cops. I'm not kidding."

"You're overreacting," Katara said. Calling Sokka had worked to calm Katara's nerves, just not the way she had hoped. Insead of reassuring his sister that the note was nothing to worry about, he sounded ready to hop on a plane and come home. Now Katara was trying to calm him down instead. She chuckled to herself.

"Are you laughing?" Sokka demanded. "This isn't a joke, Katara!"

"I'm not!" she lied. Katara forced down a smile. She switched her phone from one ear to the other, and dug through the refrigerator. All she had was leftovers from the diner where she worked, unless she wanted to cook. She absolutely did not want to cook.

"Katara," Sokka said in his I'm not budging tone, "some perv left a note on the door. He knows where you live, and probably knows you're alone. You have to get the cops involved." Katara rolled her eyes.

"And tell them what, exactly?" She stuck her noodles in the microwave, and leaned against the counter. "That some rando left a really bad poem on my door? Awful writing isn't a crime. Anyway, it was probably just a prank. I bet Toph did it. She has a pretty twisted sense of humor."

"First of all, Toph's blind. She can't write anything-"

"-unless she had help-"

"-And second she isn't that subtle. She would bang on the door, or actually break in to scare you." Sokka paused for a moment. "Do you think maybe Aang…?"

"No." Katara cut him off firmly.

"Are you sure? I know you said he didn't take the break up very well. And he is the type to write stupid poems…" Katara pulled the phone away from her ear and counted to ten before she replied.

"He wasn't happy," she confirmed. "But he isn't the type to leave anonymous creepy letters. He's an ethical vegan, for La's sake. He wouldn't have done...this." Katara gestured to the open card on the table. Aang had been clingy and cloying as a boyfriend, but he wouldn't stoop to this. He might call. He might show up in person pleading to speak to her. He had,in fact, done both immediately after she had broken up with him. This wasn't his style.

"Besides," Katara continued, "it's not even his handwriting."

"Fine," Sokka huffed. "It wasn't him. That's even worse, Katara. Take. It. To. The. Cops!"

"There's nothing to take to them!' Katara insisted. "What do you expect them to do for me?"

"They could send extra patrols at night." The microwave let out it's high pitched alert.

"Sokka, this is a safe neighborhood," she said. She set her plate on the table. "There are security guards making rounds all the time. The cops already drive down the street a few times a night. How much more can they really do than that?"

"I don't know!" Sokka was beginning to sound frustrated. "But something is better than nothing. Urgh! I wish Suki wasn't deployed. I'd feel so much better if you had a trained soldier with you."

"Hey!" Katara protested around a mouthful of food. "I can take care of myself."

"Suki has weapons training." Katara scowled

"I've been to a shooting range!" she defended herself.

"Sure," Sokka snorted. "Like, what, maybe three or four times? In your entire life? Besides, you don't have a gun." Katara dropped her fork in disgust.

"You don't know what I have in my room!"

"Like I said…"

"Whatever." Katara was getting annoyed.

"Can you have Toph stay with you?" Sokka suggested.

"She's going to visit her parents. She'll be gone all summer." She may have left already, now that Katara thought about it. That meant she couldn't have been the one to leave the note. Katara chose not to let Sokka know that bit.

"Then what about Aang?" Katara arched an eyebrow.

"Weren't you just accusing him of leaving the note in the first place?"

"You said he didn't," Sokka said. "Tell me the truth. Do you think there's any chance he sent the note?"

"Of course not," Katara sighed.

"Then ask him if he can hang out with you the next few days and scare this creep off." Katara raised her eyebrow and leaned back in her chair.

"So, let me get this straight," she said feeling equally exasperated and amused. "You want me to call my ex- my vegan, pacifist ex- and ask him to hang out to scare off some idiot kid?" Katara rolled her eyes again. "Let me list all of the reasons that's a stupid idea..."

"Well, it's better than nothing!" Sokka pressed. Katara's face scrunched up thoughtfully.

"Hmm, is it though?"

"Katara, be serious!"

"I'm seriously irritated," she grumbled stabbing at her food. Sokka was silent for a moment .

"I can come home," he offered. Katara bit back a gasp and nearly choked on a bit of meat.

She spat it out.

"Don't you dare!" she told him when she could breathe. "You worked so hard for this. I will not let you give it up because I have a weirdo secret admirer."

"Katara, you're more important to me than this stupid job-"

"Stupid job?" Katara pulled the phone away from her ear and gaped at it. "You're helping to build the new space station. Stupid, this guy says!"

"I have vacation time coming up, anyway-"

"And you're planning to use it to see Suki!"

"Katara…"

"Sokka…" She could almost hear Sokka pinching to the bridge of his nose. She bit her lip and grinned at the thought.

"Look," he said. "You can't blame me for worrying. You're my favorite little sister-"

"-I'm your only little sister-"

"-shut up! You're the only family I've got left . I want to make sure you're safe."

"I'm fine, Sokka," she said. "I promise, if anything else happens, I'll go straight to the cops" That mollified him. After a few more minutes of talking, the siblings hung up, and Katara went to finish up some school work before bed. The poem lay forgotten on the counter until the next morning.

On her way out of the door the next morning, Katara found another envelope on her door. There was no note this time, only pictures. She looked through with mounting horror at images of her at the library a few days earlier; at the movies with some classmates the week before; getting into her car outside of the diner; with her key in the door of her home. All close ups that she knew she hadn't posed for or been aware of. This time she didn't hesitate. She got into her car-despite the awful noise it had been making lately- and tossed the anonymous poem was on the passenger seat beside her, along with the new envelope. Katara glanced at them and shuddered.

The car didn't start the first time she turned the key in the ignition. Katara's heart leapt up into her throat, and she looked around nervously. She felt for her phone and clutched it in her lap. The second time she turned the key her car let out a pitiful whine, but on the third try the engine turned over and Katara let out a dry sob of relief. The police station wasn't too far from her house, but the threat of her car stalling out on the road away from help forced Katara to drive just below the speed limit. The ride, which should have taken fifteen minutes, took closer to thirty. Katara spent every moment glancing in her rearview for any sign of someone following her. No one seemed to be, but that didn't make Katara feel better. Was whoever had taken those pictures back at her home waiting for her to return?

The station was finally in view. Katara pressed on the gas anxiously, and her car lurched haltingly onto the block. She hit the breaks and came to a shuddering stop. As she reached for the key, a loud popping noise filled the car. Katara shrieked and ducked with her arms covering her head. Her pulse beat a loud tattoo in her ears. She glanced up carefully and stared uncomprehendingly at the smoke pouring out of the hood of her car. A tapping sound at the passenger side window shook another startled yelp from her, and she turned, wild eyed, to the uniformed officer looking in at her in concern.

"Are you alright, miss?" Katara had no idea how to answer her.

"...um," she mumbled. Then the car let out a last window rattling shudder, and then died. Katara met the officer's eyes with a helpless shrug. "I...I'm going to need a tow."

The officer called for a police tow immediately, and ushered Katara inside. Katara clutched the envelopes to her chest while the officer prepared her a tag so she would be able get her car out of impoundment. She stared around the station with detached interest. The air was buzzing with activity. A large number of officers were gathered in what seemed to be a meeting room where one dark haired detective standing at the front pointed to a wall full of photographs. Training, Katara thought.

"Here you go, Ms. Imiq," the officer-Katara was too distracted to remember her name- handed her the slip of paper. She regarded Katara sympathetically. "I waived the towing fee for you, so, you don't have to worry about that."

"Thanks," Katara said quietly reaching out for the slip. She cleared her throat. "I...I actually needed to speak to...someone." She held up the envelopes. "I found these at my house. I-"

"Oh!" The officer winced. "I'm afraid it's going to be a bit of a wait. Please have a seat and I'll send someone to take your-"

"There's no need for that, Officer Han." An aging man in a formal uniform approached the two women. He seemed nice, Katara thought, and far too grandfatherly to be working in a police station. He reached out a hand to Katara with a warm smile.

"I'm Chief Iroh Kaji," he told her.

"Katara Imiq." Katara held up the envelopes for Iroh to see. "I think someone's following me. I want to..." Her voice trailed off, and her shoulders sagged forward. Even as frightened as she was, she didn't know what the police could do. She didn't even have a guess who had sent her the poem and pictures. She had seen enough procedural dramas, and listened to enough true crime podcasts to know that even if she had known who had sent them, there was little the police could do unless her mysterious stalker physically did something to her or her property.

Iroh saw the crestfallen look on her face with concern. Whether he understood her discouragement or not, he took her hand and patted it sympathetically.

"Why don't we see how we can help you," he said kindly. He guided her past the conference room where the meeting seemed to be winding down. Iroh smiled at her, though now Katara noticed it didn't quite reach his tired eyes.

"You caught us at kind of a busy moment," he told Katara. He held open the door to a small interview room and motioned for her to enter. "But I can begin the process of taking your statement."

"Alright…" Katara settled into a hard plastic chair with her back straight. She laid the envelopes on the table and took out first the picture, and then the poem, and explained, "Someone left these at my house. I got the letter last night, and I was going to ignore it, but then I found the picture stuck to my door this morning and I…" Katara's folded her shaking hands tightly and hid them on her lap under the table. Iroh's face paled and drew tightly when he saw the handwriting. To Katara's surprise, he almost leapt up from the table and flung the door open.

"Officer Han!" The officer who had helped Katara with her car hurried back over.

"Sir?"

"I need you to send Detective Kaji to me immediately," Iroh told her. "And I need someone from forensics. Tell them to bring evidence bags." Katara watched him with wide eyes. He turned back to her apologetically. "Please hold on a moment, my dear."

Iroh stepped out and left Katara staring after him in confusion. A man in rubber gloves and carrying two plastic baggies came in and put the envelopes and their contents into each one. He left scribbled something across the tops hastily and left without a word. The bags sat on the table. Iroh returned a few moments later, and settled back into his seat across from her with no explanation. The detective he had summoned arrived shortly after that.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked with a perfunctory glance at Katara. Iroh gestured towards Katara.

"This is Katara Imiq," he said. "I'm afraid she has a very serious problem. Ms. Imiq, this is Detective Zuko Kaji." Katara's brows furrowed. She darted her gaze between them, and then spoke up.

"Look, I'm glad to see that your department takes stalking cases seriously, but this guy can't really be worth the chief's time." Zuko frowned and turned to Katara. Her eyes widened when she saw the scar over the left side of his face, and she quickly dropped her gaze. Her long brown hair spilled over her shoulder, hiding her face as she gathered herself. Zuko snorted lightly. He was used to that reaction when people first met him.

"I'm afraid it's a bit more urgent than that," Iroh told her apologetically. "Zuko, I believe Ms. Imiq has had the misfortune of being contacted by...our friend." He slid the poem and photo Katara had brought in, now in sealed evidence bags, across the table. Zuko's eyes widened as he read the poem.

"Koh?" he whispered. "So soon? It can't be." Iroh nodded.

"I'm afraid so." Katara looked between the two men with a growing sense of confusion and worry.

"I'm sorry, Koh?" she said. "As in the face-stealer spirit? As in the ghost story my dad used to tell my brother and me around the campfire when we were kids?" Iroh turned to Katara grimly.

"I'm afraid this is no spirit," he told her. "The Koh we are referring to is altogether too human."

"He's a serial killer," Zuko said bluntly. "And it looks like he's chosen you as his next victim." Katara gasped.

"Zuko," Iroh chided.

"What?" Zuko demanded. "She deserves to know what she's up against."

"Up against?" Katara gaped at him. "What does he want with me?" Zuko turned to her, feeling sympathy well up in his gut.

"Nothing good." He hurriedly assured her, "But you did the right thing coming to us." Katara slumped back in her seat.

"But why me?" she murmured. "I've never even...how does he..."

"He seems to choose his victims at random," Iroh explained apologetically. "He's killed men and women of all different ages, looks, and backgrounds...You could have run into him anywhere. You mentioned you were a waitress and a student? Plenty of chances for him to have noticed you." Katara's face had gone ashen.

"What is he going to…" her voice wavered, and she cleared her throat. "What does he do to his victims?" Iroh and Zuko exchanged glances.

"He...collects faces," Zuko told her. Katara's eyes went as wide as saucers before she ducked her head to her lap. Zuko was worried she was about to pass out. Iroh seemed to share the concern. He picked up the phone and asked Biyu to bring a few bottles of water. Zuko crouched at Katara's side and rubbed her shoulders.

"You're going to be fine," he promised. "We're going to catch him before he has a chance to hurt you." Katara nodded weakly and accepted the water from Iroh.

"Do you have any friends who you can stay with?" Iroh asked. "Or family?" Katara choked back a sob and shook her head.

"My-most of my friends are gone for the summer," she explained. "And my brother is in Ba Sing Se for the next few months."

"Can you go stay with him?"

"I have summer classes starting soon," she explained. "I'm up for a TA position this fall, and my dissertation is due next spring. If I leave...all my work…" Katara cleared her throat. "Besides, my brother is working on a military compound. No civilians allowed."

"Parents?" Iroh pressed. Katara let out a humourless laugh.

"Both dead." Her voice was thick with tears. This wasn't supposed to happen to her. She and Sokka had already been through so many tragedies far too early in life. They weren't supposed to deal with... this. She groped blindly for her phone. "I...I have to call my brother…"

"In due time, my dear," Iroh promised. "First we need to figure out how to keep you safe." Katara sagged against the back of her chair and shrugged. She was exhausted, and her day had just begun.

"What's the plan?"

"Obviously, you'll need police protection," Iroh said. "We can arrange to have uniformed officers patrolling your block every twenty minutes until we catch Koh. In addition, Detective Kaji-" Iroh nodded towards Zuko- "or myself will be checking in on you regularly. Of course we will need your schedule." Katara looked up at Zuko, and then turned back to Iroh.

"And...that will be enough to keep him away from me?" she asked uncertainly. Iroh stroked his beard pensively before he replied.

"It should be sufficient," he said. "We have never had one of his victims come in. I am confident that we will not only be able to keep you safe, but capture Koh as well."

"Alright." Katara took a deep breath, and sat up, gripping the arms of her chair. "Alright. I'll do whatever you need me to."

Katara gave the two men her official statement. It didn't take long. In spite of the abject horror of the morning, Katara didn't have much to tell them. When she was done, she looked at the two sheepishly.

"Any chance I can get a ride home?" she slapped his nephew on the back.

"I'm sure Detective Kaji would be happy to," he said.