Viva La Gloria Pt. 6

Billie wandered down the alleys alone, switchblade in one hand and gun in the other. He hated himself. He hated everything about himself, from his bloodstained hands, to his killing instinct, to his whole damn life. Why did he kill Derek, and why did he kill Kyle all those years ago?
He still remembered it so clearly. He was walking with Tre and Mike; ever since he had joined the gang, the three of them had been practically inseparable.
They were just kids at the time; he was only twelve years old.
Billie remembered being so terribly frightened of the dark alleys, always staying close to his friends as they passed them by.  
It was one particularly rainy, dismal day when Kyle sauntered from the alley. He looked to be 15 or 16, and he was grinning much too wickedly to be ignored by the young boys.
"Mike," Tre whispered, "we're being followed."
"What?" His face grew pale, and he reached into the front pocket of his black hoodie, his hand gripping at the switchblade he always carried.
A large hand suddenly fell upon Billie's shoulder, and he bit back a scream as Kyle dragged him back. "Mike, Tre-" a bright silver blade flashed before him, and he forced his eyes shut.
"Ya know, this is Crimson King territory." He still remembered Kyle's laugh, the feeling of his breath against the back of his neck, and the rising panic he felt when the blade came to rest on his throat.
"Let him go," Tre growled, mustering up as much courage as he could.
"Nah...I'm thinking you street rats have been crossing our turf much too often lately. I'm thinking it's gonna take a dead body for things to change around here." Kyle grinned and ran the flat of the blade slowly across Billie's neck, causing him to whimper quietly. He clamped a hand over Billie's mouth to silence him, and Mike jumped forward, knowing that Billie didn't have much longer before Kyle killed him.
His knife went into Kyle's arm, causing him to scream obscenities and let Billie go. "I'LL KILL YOU FOR THAT! I'LL RIP YOUR THROAT OUT!!" He lunged at Mike and pinned him down easily.
"BILLIE! THE KNIFE! KILL HIM!" Mike thrashed violently against the much larger boy, his eyes wide with terror.
Billie saw the bloody switchblade and snatched it up quickly, adrenaline surging through his veins. He had to kill Kyle to save Mike. He had to. He knew it.
Yet, he couldn't. He stood, trembling with fear, frozen in place.
Suddenly, Billie was knocked to the ground, and his arms were pinned at his sides. Kyle was going to kill the threat first, the kid with knife; at this point, Billie was going to be the victim.
"HELP!" Billie didn't scream for his friends anymore. He screamed for anyone who would listen, anyone willing to save him.
"Goodbye, kid." Kyle raised his blade, and Billie lost it completely. Knife still in hand, he sliced at Kyle's wrist.
"AAH!" Kyle jerked his arm up, and Billie stabbed him in the stomach with his free hand. He watched in horror as the large boy's eyes glazed over, and he fell lifelessly over him.
"Billie!" Tre dragged the corpse off of his friend. Are you okay?!"
Billie began to sob. "...No...I'm not okay...."
"Come on, we have to run!" Mike grabbed Billie's arm and dragged him along. They quickly vanished into the dark, narrow streets, like murderers into the night.
Murderers. Billie knew he was a murderer. To this very day, it haunted him.
As he continued to trudge along, the streets broadened, and the trail of bodies seemed to come to an end. He ultimately felt safe enough to put away his switchblade, which had become slick in his blood-covered hand. However, he still held onto the gun, knowing it would keep him safe if things got out of control like they had earlier.
A familiar-looking doll with golden hair and emerald green eyes caught his eye. It was laying at the edge of the street, blood splatters staining its delicate, porcelain skin.
Billie's stomach turned, and he felt his hair stand on end as he realized why this doll seemed so familiar to him.
It was Gloria's.