Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim to own any characters or concepts related to Avatar: the Last Airbender. This is a nonprofit work of fanfiction.

The Face Stealer's Welcome

What's this? A guest? How exceptional. I receive so few visitors of the mortal persuasion these days.

Have you lost your way? Poor, frightened child. To be lost in such a dark place with no one to comfort you. No one to guide you to the warm, safe places, so unlike this dreadful hole. You must be scared. Let me help you.

There's a toll that must be paid, of course. A lock of your hair. A song from your lips. A smile. Just a little thing. You wouldn't miss it.

What a dour face! But I can see the lines where the skin folds when you smile. Here. And here. You must have a lovely smile. Show it to me. Let me see. Let me see it. Show me!

How your shoulders tremble. Are you afraid? Afraid of harmless, selfless Koh who only wants to help?

Face Eater? Where did you hear such a crude thing? I prefer Face Stealer. It's far more pleasant, don't you think?

Although I must say I like the ring of Face Eater the more I think of it. It grows on one. And it's true, after all, that I've eaten my share of flesh. I get so hungry waiting here for someone to come and say hello to the Face Stealer. I've waited so long for you and now that you're here, I don't know where to start. The sweat behind your ear, perhaps. How I've missed salt.

So you think yourself brave, do you? Brave enough to survive the Face Stealer? Arrogance is unbecoming on one so weak. Courage falters. The unyielding yields. All tragedy is inevitable. I've had brave ones before. Soldiers with their heavy shields, ascetics with their forsaken hearts. A queen so proud and strong, her daughter full of vengeance.

Curious? Please, allow me to show you. What a handsome face, you see? Such dignified lines. She would have taken her mother's throne if she had only been a little wiser.

It's a funny little story, if you care to listen. The mother journeyed to dark places to make a bargain with an ancient spirit for one reason or another, the usual petty mortal concerns of kingdoms and wars. I welcomed her with open teeth. She was lean and tough, her meat soured by her ambition, not like her daughter, juicy and plump and noble. The daughter came with hidden blades and cunning words and all her armies at her back, so certain in her righteousness, so assured of her own strength, but oh, how she wept when I whispered in her ear.

Mother's here, darling. Let Mother hold you. Don't cry, darling.

I ate her, too, and when that was done, I ate those who came with her. All the armies of their kingdom could not save them. Their bronze shields could not protect them. Their honed blades could not cut me. Their offerings could not assuage my hunger. So many faces to add to my collection! I would show them to you, but I fear you won't have the time.

Oh, yes, I remember this taste. Her tears were salty, too.

Poor, lost child. My child. So frightened and alone. Cry, if you wish. I don't mind.

This story was originally posted at livejournal on 08/13/2009 for the fic challenge cliche_bingo, hosted on livejournal. The prompt was "first person point-of-view." Most hated of all POVs! Fortunately, I love writing Koh, so it wasn't entirely awful.