The Adventures of Grave Girl

         "Stop!" her voice called out to the three young men who were vandalising the grave. For a second it worked, they all stopped, shocked at the fact they weren't alone. She felt all three pairs of eyes look her up and down, leering.
         The largest of the lads burst out laughing as he pointed at her. "Who's gunna make us? You?"
         His friends joined in the laughter at his particularly witty comeback.
         "Actually, yes," she answered, her voice straight.
         "Oh really," the boy stood up, dropping the spray can he held in his hand. It fell to the ground with a loud clunk, rolling into the groove of the headstone. He stepped forward, straightening up and throwing his shoulder back. His two mates flanked hiim, one either side, both copying his movement. Squaring up. He took another step forward, his dirty white trainers squelching in the mud. A lewd grin stretched across his face. She knew what he was thinking.
         "I must warn you," she began, her voice monotone, half-masked face expressionless.
         "You're warning me?" he guffawed with his cronies at the absurdity of the thought. She felt his ghoulish eyes staring at her, taking in her curves.
         "What are you anyway?" he asked as he took in her outfit. A black skirt so small it hinted at the edges of reason but maintained her dignity, a pair of fish net tights covered by a pair of calf-length heeled boots. She wore a thin top with a logo placed on the left breast. And what looked like...a cape.
         "Oh, you're a super hero, is that it?" he grinned at her taking another step. The thick sound of mud rose, droplets of the stuff rising and falling, splattering the bottom of his dark jeans.
         "Yeah, that's right," she told him, confident.
         Then he was in hysterics, laughing so hard he couldn't catch his breah. Tears rolling down his face. As if on cue, his two cronies began laughing too.
         She waited patiently for the manical laughter to subside, the whole time watching them. Finally the gang leader regained his composure and turned his face to her, darkness swelling within his eyes.
         "Well I guess if you're a superhero, you won't have any problem dealing with any of us," he gestured to the two boys behind him, taking another step forward. He was almost within arms reach.
         "That's right," a small hint of a smile crossed her lips.
         He snarled at this expressed emotion. He knew she was laughing at him.
         "That's it, bitch!" he yelled at her, his mouth gaping exposing already rotted teeth. Just as he was about to lunge forward, his hands already stretching towards her, a dark cane appeared in her hand. Although it wasn't a cane. Slowly she left it unravel, the leather tongs falling to an inch before hitting the floor. It was a whip.
         He stopped for a moment, glancing back to make sure his boys were backing him up. They were still there, though the startled look in their eyes suggested they wouldn't be for much longer.
         He turned back to the woman, "Kinky." He lunged once more, throwing his body at hers.
         "You wish," she whispered under her breath as she pulled her hand back. The night air was filled with the sound of three cracks issues simultaneously.
         They were down, all three. Lying on the ground, unconscious. She'd struck hard enough to keep them down for a few minutes, long enough to make her escape. She grabbed up the spray can, sprawling crude letters on the chests of each of the men. GG. They wouldn't forget her for a long time.
         Then she was gone.