So, I wrote this piece from the perspective of the character I'm suggesting. I hope that's alright, but I'd also love to see as many other people's versions of her as possible both as killer and victim. So even if she's already been used by other writers please feel free to write for her as you like.

K/V: Killer
Name: Lance
Age: 13
Sex: F
Characteristics: Despite her age she can be extremely sexy even to those who wouldn’t usually go for girls her age. And the knowledge of this is reflected in her attitude.
Scene: Lance learned recently that she cannot die, at least not for long. Each time her body is damaged or destroyed she heals quickly or awakes perhaps an hour later and within one hundred yards. While curious about why this is, the biggest change this has brought to Lance’s behaviour is a brashness and fearlessness she previously lacked. Encouraging self destructive behaviour in order to seek entertainment, usually at the more permanent expense of others.

Have Fun.

***

Emily doesn’t know I’m home, I can tell by the whimpering sounds coming from her room. She recently discovered masturbation and still doesn’t think I know. Every day for the past week when coming home from school she’s gone to her room, taken off her uniform and started touching herself. When she knows that I’m home she locks the door and stays as quiet as she can, but I can still hear her most days anyway. When she doesn’t think anyone’s home she leaves her door open and is as loud as she wants, which varies from the subtle whimpers and moans of today, to full on screaming.

I’ve been with this foster family for almost a year now, and they were getting boring until this development. I made sure to stay home from school myself today because Mr. And Mrs. Railond were going to the next city over for some furniture auction. Or maybe it was lawn ornaments. Whatever, the important part is that now I’m alone in the house with my foster sister until late tonight or early tomorrow morning.

Now girls my age aren’t usually my thing. I prefer women with a little more on them, more to hold onto and more to take off. But when a little treasure like this falls into my lap I don’t question it. Well, question it is the first thing I do, but that’s just my paranoia talking. Whatever, what I mean to say is that I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. And Emily is fucking cute, vulnerable, and alone for probably another twelve hours.

I do a little preparation, it wouldn’t do to scare her too quickly. All this really requires is prettying myself up, which I usually do before school anyway. A little blush there, just a tad of eyeshadow here. A tiny bit of contouring to my face and body to make me seem that much more appealing.

Then I lay out in my bed and start to masturbate as well. Though I’m only two years older than Emily, I know that I’m a lot better at it than she is. And I’ve learned how to make it look and sound enticing. I slide a single slickened finger into myself and release a small, stuttering moan that I know will carry through the house.

I smile just slightly when I hear Emily stop, probably freezing on her bed. But I keep going, pushing the digit into myself again and again, each movement elicits a slightly exaggerated moan and arch of my body from my sheets.

My door is wide open, and I can hear Emily trying clumsily to sneak across the hall. I’m facing the door on my bed, my pale legs spread as I push another finger into myself just as Emily comes into view. She stands in my doorway, staring at me. She’s wearing an open shirt, part of her school uniform, a barely necessary upper undergarment and stockings. Nothing else. She’s staring at my pussy with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. I’m just staring at her, fingering myself and waiting for her to realise I’ve seen her already.

It doesn’t take her long. She lets out a squeak and looks like she’s about to run when she pauses, clearly putting together my small smile and the fact that I haven’t stopped even though she can see me. I can see her swallow fearfully before bucking the courage to come into my room. I’d been hoping for that. Emily’s an adventurous girl, almost as fearless as myself, but not quite and not particularly clever either.

She stares at me while moving closer slowly, as though she’d afraid I’m going to scream at her, hit her, tell her to leave or that I’d tell her parents. But she crawls onto my bed with none of this happening. She’s kneeling between my legs and her gaze moves back down to my pussy. When it does, I pull my fingers from myself, glistening with my moistness.

“I know you wanna touch me.” Is all I say. She doesn’t even look up at me, just stares down at my slightly open sex. Then, to my surprise she leans down and licks my lower lips up to my still mostly hidden clit. I gasp and arch my back, it’s exaggerated to make her feel better about herself, but I’m too surprised to pile it on too much. She must have seen some lesbian porn on her tablet or phone.

She sits up, smacking her lips together and looking a little unsure of how it tasted. She leans down and tries it again, drawing another not as exaggerated as I’d like to think sound from me. “It doesn’t taste very good.” She points out. “Not bad... but not good either.”

I laugh, sitting up and pushing my hand through her hair. “That’s not the point of tasting it, silly. The point is making you and someone else feel good. And it tastes better the more you do it. Trust me.” I finish with a wry grin, not that I plan on letting her get used to the taste. She surprises me again by leaning forward and pressing her lips against mine. It isn’t nearly as surprising as the last thing she did with her mouth, and it’s somehow more sloppy her mouth is open and her tongue moves over my face like she learned to kiss from some bad porn actress.

I need to take control of the situation back. Not really because it’s really in any risk of her taking over, just because I NEED to control it myself. It’s a flaw. Maybe. Regardless, even though I don’t move away from her kiss I lift my hand and bring it into her cheek in a light but still stinging slap that causes her to recoil, looking at me like I bit her, her confused expression deepening when she sees my smile still there.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask, smirking at the younger girl.

“I-I thought-“ I cut her off with another slap. I’m not hitting her hard, but the surprise and meaning behind being slapped is still making her look like she’s about to cry. I hit her again.

“Kiss me.” I say in a commanding tone. There are tears on her face now, though she isn’t trying to get away.

“Stop hitting me.” She whines, holding the cheek been consistently slapping. I hit the other one.

“Kiss me.” I say again in a more harsh tone than before, making her eyes widen. She’d get it eventually. She leans forward and kisses me softly, clearly realizing that I’ll hit her again if she doesn’t. Yet still she doesn’t run, though her kiss is a lot more forceful now.

I lean into this one, letting my lips part and pressing my body against her. She seems to forget my hitting her quickly as it hadn’t hurt her anyway, just shocked her. The point wasn’t to hurt, yet at least. Just let her know I was in charge, and now she knows.

When I pull back and smile at her, she smiles fearfully in return. “Go down there and start licking me again.” I say in that same, commanding tone, though I lace my voice with sweetness as well. She moves eagerly down my body, staring at it still with wonder as she does. Her tongue finds my flower easily this time, eagerly lapping at it and her hands wrapping around my thighs and allowing her to burry her face in my pussy.

One of my hands finds her hair, holding her against me as I moan and cry out occasionally when her tongue finds my clit. My other hand snakes under my pillow and finds the long handled fishing knife I carried with me everywhere. It’s a silly thing really, styled after an eagle’s talon. But I’ve carried it for years.

I feel myself about to cum and yank her head from my pussy, throwing her onto her back on the floor and position myself over her face. She screams at first, but doesn’t notice the knife in my hand and continues licking eagerly at my cunt when it’s offered to her.

I hadn’t been expecting that. But it’s nice as it means I’m already cumming, screaming as she’s sprayed with my juices when I bring the knife down into her belly. I don’t think she’s noticed yet, she still licking me, though there is a hesitance in it, as though she knows something is wrong even though her brain hasn’t caught up with the fact that there’s a shard of metal sticking into her tummy.

She screams, finally, when I wrench the knife upward until it hits the bottom of her sternum, pushing at me. I let her shove me off of her, allowing her to see the blood and innards well up out of her little body. I sit on the floor next to her, staring between her face and the wound I’ve inflicted while she whimpers, eyes wide and staring at the knife’s handle. She takes it in her hands, slick with my juices and tried to pull it out, but it hurts too much and she stops looking to me with panic.

She tries to say something, but only doubles over coughing and blood coming from her mouth, drawing a smile to my own lips. I lift myself, straddling her struggling body and lower myself onto the handle of the knife, penetrating myself with it as I lean forward and kiss her, licking the blood from her lips.

Emily simply writhes beneath me, unable to do anything due to the burning agony in her stomach as I slowly move myself up and down the handle of the blade. We lay like that for some time until she passes out beneath me.

I sit up on top of her, still moving the blade back and forth with my gyrating hips, looking down at her pale face, flecked with blood. It’s the perfect sight, I think. She’s dying for me. At my whim. I don’t think there’s a better feeling in the world. I sit up off of her and pull the knife from her belly, watching as her eyes flutter open, tears filling them as she stares up at me.

“I love you.” I whisper. It’s true, oddly enough. I feel like a god, accepting a sacrifice from her subject. Her eyes water but in her delirium she still smiles at the comforting words, her expression only changes when I drive my blade through her right temple. It’s harder than I thought it would be, but it moves in smoothly one I break through that thin bone plate. Her right eye rolls lazily up into her hear, the other twitching slightly, staring at me and dilating while her mouth falls open. I hold the knife fully in her skull for a moment, then twist. Her body gives a final, brutal heave and then falls still. I pull the knife from her head, kiss her one final time and walk out of the house. It’s the first time I’ve done something that could easily identify me as the culprit. But it was worth it, I think.