The wind wiped the large tree's surrounding the small town of Winhill. The full moon in the sky illuminated the town with its bright glow. Tiny stars twinkled in the sky against the blackness of the night. The city was quiet it's busy residents all tucked in for the night. The roar of a motorcycle flying up the road shattered the quiet. The town continued to sleep, turning it's back on the noise.
A man sat on the bike his face lowered blocking the wind. His brown hair pulled back by the force of the wind. He wore black pants and a black, fur lined jacket. He blended in perfectly with the darkness. A pistol glinted at his waist, a gunblade reflected the moons glow. Squall Leonhart flew into the city pulling his bike to a stop at the doors of the local inn.
The door was locked, the windows dark. He scooped up a few pebbles and lightly tossed them at a closed window. But nobody came and he was left with few options. He raised his face too peer at the small window on the far right. He whistled a familiar tune to the night.
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Rinoa Heartilly sat at her vanity and ran a comb through her long black hair. She twisted a red ribbon into her hair. She smiled at her reflection, her dark eyes twinkling. A familiar tune traveled through her window, catching her attention. It drew her from her seat and to the small window.
She unhooked the latch and pushed it open. A smile tugged at her red lips when her eyes fell on him. She leaned out her window; the wind whipped stray locks of black hair around her face.
"Squall," she whispered.
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He peered around the side of the house straining to hear the words the two spoke. Beautiful Rinoa Seifer Almasy thought watching his love with a smile. But she had no love for him. All she was belonged to that renegade Squall. Her red lips should smile for me he thought angrily. His eyes glowed with anger as he watching them talk.
"I shall make you pay Squall," he said with vengeance.
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"I'm after a prize. The yellow gold shall be mine when I return in the morning. But if those who wish to oppose me slow, I shall come to you with the moonlight. Watch the moonlight for me," Squall paused momentarily. "Hell will bar my way."
He reached his hand out to her as she did the same for him. He stood to full height on the petals of his bike but still was unable to reach her. She reached behind her head and pulled the ribbon from her black hair. A mass of dark waves blew around her face, twisting with the wind. A tiny smile touched his lips as his fingers brushed her long hair. He kissed the tips of his fingers lightly, bringing a sigh to Rinoa's lips. He lowered himself back to his seat and revved the engine. He turns to the same way he came in and tore from the town.
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Rinoa watched the sun rise from the front steps to the inn. She waited patiently for the familiar roar of the motorcycles engines, but it never came. A figure was walking briskly in her direction and would reach her soon. She recognized the man as Seifer Almasy and frowned. What does he want she thought watching him? Instead of waiting to find out she escaped into the warm setting of her home.
The hour of noon found Rinoa at her bedroom window. Again she waited for him to show up and again she was disappointed.
The fall of the sun found Rinoa wiping clean the inn's bar as her father bid farewell to the last of the customers. He opened the door for them and waved them out with a smile. The door began to swing close but at the last minute her father froze. He held the door open and peered out into the night.
"What is it father," Rinoa asked walking around the bar to join her father.
"Galbadia troops," he said watching the men in blue uniforms march into town. Squall she thought watching the men come closer they're after Squall. They reached the inn and shoved the door open. They pushed Rinoa and her father too the side and began to raid the bar.
"What are…" Rinoa was cut off as two men grabbed her arms. They dragged her up the stairs as she kicked and screamed to get free. A third man followed them up the stairs, he kicked her bedroom door open and they drug her in. Squall don't come she pleaded desperately as they began to tie her to her bed. The barrel of a shotgun dug painfully into her chest. They snickered as the third man adjusted the gun so it aimed directly into her breasts. They tied the gun to her and shoved a gag into her mouth.
She looked around her room, tears clinging to her eyelashes like diamonds. She was placed directly in front of the window, he would be able to see her from some distance away. 'Hell will bar my way' she remembered him saying. Hell was that window.
"Now be a good little girl and watch for the renegade," one of the men said laying a kiss on her forehead. The other two men laughed and exited the room. The third man stayed behind standing at the doorway with a lazy look on his face.
'I shall come to you with the moonlight' she could hear his voice in her mind saying. They would kill him the minute he reached the inn's doorstep. I can't let that happen!
Her hands were tied behind her back. She began to struggle against her bonds, trying desperately to free her hands. She twisted her hands for what seemed like eternity until something moist began to soak into the ropes. Sweat she thought or perhaps blood. To her delight her right hand began to move. Inch by inch it got closer to the trigger. Finally after much struggle her index finger rested lightly on the trigger of the gun.
She struggled no more content with her one grasp of control. She turned to look at the man standing in the doorway. All his attention was focused on the window. But she could risk moving again, fearing he would hear her and look over. Her pulse raced as she looked out the dark window. The moonlight cast shadows on the street. He'll be here soon, she thought soon.
Her ears perked, she could hear the sound of a roaring motor. Squall was coming closer, the growl of the bike growing louder. She turned wide eyes to the soldier standing in the doorway. He didn't move his gun remained resting against the door. Could they not hear? The noise intensified as Squall roared into town. Finally the man heard it he turned to look at Rinoa and she stood tall. He came nearer, unable to see anything but her face. She took a deep breath and smiled. I love you.
Her finger moved in the moonlight. The soldier noticed her movement and turned. He discovered her true intention too late. The gunshot shattered the quiet night. Her chest shattered from the blast, painting the wall behind her a gruesome red. She had been able to warn him, with the cost of her own life.
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Squall heard the blast of the gun. Somebody knew he was coming. He sent his bike into a sharp turn. Wait for me Rinoa he thought directing his bike out of town. I will come back for you.
He sat in the bar the next morning. A full glass of beer sat in front of him untouched. He'd had a strange feeling deep in his heart since last night. Something about that gunshot had disturbed him deeply. A man with a black tattoo and another man with a brown cowboy hat were sitting at the table next to him talking loudly.
"Did you hear about last night?"
"No. What happened?"
Squall took a sip of his beer trying to ignore the two men.
"Galbadia soldiers were at the inn in Winhill last night."
Squall placed his beer back on the table. The inn, he thought Rinoa!
"The innkeepers daughter, Rinoa, killed herself. They say she was waiting for her love. Wonder why she would kill herself though?"
Squall stood up so abruptly his chair clattered to the floor. He threw down the right amount of gil and exited the bar. Why Rinoa, he thought started his bike, why? He turned his bike in the direction of Winhill. The roar of the motor drowned his cry of anger out. As he came closer to Winhill he detached his Gunblade and raised it high. The Galbadia soldiers were waiting for him. They raised their guns and fired. The shot caught him in the chest throwing him off his bike.
He landed on his back on the highway. Blood began to pool around his body and his grip on his gunblade loosened. They had shot him down like a worthless dog. He would die on the highway to his beloved's town in a pool of his own blood.
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The story of the renegade Squall and his beloved, the innkeeper's daughter Rinoa, is known throughout the world. Lovers whisper the story under the light of the moon. They say that when the moonlight's glow castes shadows on the street's of Winhill. When the wind plays tag with the trees that the sound of a motorcycle can be heard.
Squall comes riding into Winhill, to the in-door. He whistles a familiar tune to the window waiting. It opens slowly to reveal Rinoa, weaving a ribbon into her dark hair.
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Author's Note: My first ever Final Fantasy VIII story! This story is a version of "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes. This took me a long time to write. I tried to get it to reflect the poem but still have the world of FFVIII. This is my first attempt at a story like this and a FFVIII story at that! Review please! Prove to me the FFVIII people are better reviewers than the FFVII group. I hope you enjoyed….please review! Thanks.