Sorry! Forgot to put the disclaimer.

'The Highwayman' does not belong to me it belongs to Alfred Noyes and the sonic chars do not belong to me either.

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I live for only one reason. To protect my little brother from the dangers of the outside world. Although it may be unhealthy for him to stay inside 24/7 the world is much too dangerous for someone as valuable as him.

We live in an old mansion deep in a forest where you could get lost within a few minutes. The forest may be a great protection from outsiders but there is the occasional person who has heard of the many riches of this mansion and is foolish enough to set foot in it. Those who wander into this mansion will have a watery date with death in the alligator infested lake behind the decaying manor.

ooo

I walked down the halls of our home looking for my beloved little brother. At this time he would be wandering place exploring every nook and cranny. I had recently witnessed a figure in the distance through the thick fog. If it was an intruder then I would have to bring my brother back to his room where it is safe. Then I could eliminate the intruder.

pat pat pat pat pat

My snowy ears perked up. I could hear distant footsteps which I recognized as my brother's. I drew closer to the source of the footsteps. He was close, and he's not alone.

My heartbeats increased as shear panic surged through my body. Someone was hunting him. I can feel it.

ooo

Shadow was trotting through the dusty halls toward his room. A wine colored hardback book was clutched to his chest. It was embroidered with peeling gold paint and the title had faded making it nearly impossible decipher.

Somewhere above him came the sound a trigger. A streak of red zipped right in front of him nearly hitting its designated target. He yelped in surprise and skidded stop sending dust up into the air. There was a flurry of motion and the sound of a blade tearing through the flesh of an unfortunate victim. Shreaks of pain echoed loudly through the hall.

As the dust cleared he was able to see his brother standing there staring at a brutally marred fox with murderous eyes. The fox was lying on the dusty carpet staring at nothing with dead eyes. A ghost of his last screams lingered on his bloody face.

Shadow backed away as he stared in horror. The white hedgehog turned towards his frightened brother with a depressing look in his silver eyes.

"Sorry you had to see that." He whispered sadly as he hoisted the body onto his shoulders and threw it out a nearby window. The black glassy surface of the water rippled as the body hit the water. Several alligators swarmed around it tearing the body into pieces within minutes.

ooo

Shadow was back in his room with his brother Raven. His room was like a santuary to him. It was where he felt safest.

Raven tucked his brother into the crimson silk sheets and ask him about the book that was stiil clutched in the ebony's hands. "What's that you got there? Is it a story you want me to read"
The black hedgehog nodded and opened the book to a certain page.

"Can you read this one?" He pointed to the poem entitled 'The Highwayman'

"Of course I can." He replied as he took the book from his little brother.

Raven cleared his throat before he bagan reading out loud. "The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding-- Riding--riding-- The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin; He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin. They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh! And he rode with a jeweled twinkle-- His rapier hilt a-twinkle-- His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard, He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred, He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter-- Bess, the landlord's daughter-- Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked-- His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay, But he loved the landlord's daughter-- The landlord's black-eyed daughter; Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light. Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast, Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight (O sweet black waves in the moonlight!), And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon. And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon, When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor, The redcoat troops came marching-- Marching--marching-- King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead, But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed. Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side; There was Death at every window, And Hell at one dark window, For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest! They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast! "Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say, "Look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good! She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood! They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, Till, on the stroke of midnight, Cold on the stroke of midnight, The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest; Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast. She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again, For the road lay bare in the moonlight, Blank and bare in the moonlight, And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear; Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding-- Riding--riding-- The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night! Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light! Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonlight-- Her musket shattered the moonlight-- Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.

He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood! Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high! Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat When they shot him down in the highway, Down like a dog in the highway, And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor, The highwayman comes riding-- Riding--riding-- The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard, He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred, He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter-- Bess, the landlord's daughter-- Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair"

Raven closed the book having finished the poem. He looked down at the sleeping hedgehog. A smile crept onto his lips as he stood up and planted a kiss on his forehead.
"Goodnight Shadow." He whispered as he exited the room quietly shutting the door and locking it.