"Billy, how are you feeling?" I asked when I saw him later that day.

"Me?" he laughed, "I'm an experienced bastard Brandon, five lashes doesn't mean anything to me these days. 'Ow are you?"

"Not as bad as I thought I would be to be honest. Being the talking point of the entire prison wasn't amazing but work wasn't bad."

He angrily clucked his tongue. "Like 'ens in their coup this lot, with their non stop clucking every time something 'appens. You get used to it after a while though."

"I know yeah. I did hear an interesting story about you though," I told him, a small smile on my face.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, relaxed in his chair.

"Yeah, apparently you and a fellow that sounded a lot like Marky, used to go around massacring people on a timer," I laughed. The ridiculousness of my statement came to the forefront now that I'd said out loud myself. "It gets better though, apparently you'd have three different hourglasses and each one would effectively dictate how people ended up dying."

It was subtle but I saw Billy's muscles tense up at my words.

"Ridiculous… right?" I asked, keeping my grin from slipping as I started to question whether it was as far-fetched as I originally thought.

Billy gave me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"It was a different time, I was a different person."

The shock hit me like a brick. He was really that callous? To have made a game of killing people?

It must have been written over my face because Billy began explaining himself.

"Listen, it's not as bad as people used to make out– or I suppose that they still do. You know Marky, 'e loves 'is sand and back then, carrying an 'ourglass became 'is –and I suppose our – calling card. I'm not gonna lie to you and say we didn' do some 'einous things, some that I've come to regret but we were young fools, stuck in a bad life."

"You really made a game of it?" I whispered, still shocked. I'd seen the finality of his strikes against Pete, Amir, and Roach but to think it was born from something like this was astounding.

He shrugged. "Sometimes yeah. It's not somethin' I reckon you'll ever experience but when you deal in violence like we did, you become numb to it. It stops being a huge deal. If anythin' you start losin' the buzz. It's not like we were killin' innocents though lad, just rivals. Other gang members."

I watched him carefully as he fell into his story. The strange thing was that I felt he was being honest with me, and that honesty made me respect him more.

"I don' enjoy talkin' about them days. A lot of mistakes were made. A lot of things done for the wrong reasons. Eventually those things caught up to me and put me in 'ere and it's not worth dwellin' on but I can see it's 'avin an impact on you so I'll tell you a bit about it."

I gave him an appreciative nod.

"Me and Marky were enforcers for a big player back in the day. Emmett Longely was 'is name. A relatively nice guy for the boss of a gang, and at the time, that appealed to us."

I racked my brains but couldn't think of anyone that went by that name. It was unsurprising really because it was well before my time, and I wasn't sure how someone could be a 'nice guy' and lead a gang.

"See 'e 'ad different ideas about how things should be run in Radan. Progressive ones that 'e said would give back to the communities we were from. Look after them in a way that the other gangs wouldn'. And that was good wasn' it?"

He chuckled mirthlessly. "Young and naive we were. Convinced ourselves we were doin' it for the betterment of our city. We'd smack around a few heavies. Run up on another crew in a tavern and exchange blows. It was good. It was fun.

"Then the first war began. I can' even remember the reason now. Territory? Slight?" He waved a hand dismissively. "It's gone from my 'ead. All remember is the rush. We'd walk down a street and suddenly we're being jumped. Backs to the wall, us or them. Fighting for our lives. It was amazing. And we were fuckin' brilliant at it. Nobody could do us in. didn't matter 'ow many they sent, me and Marky would get away."

Billy looked to the side wistfully as I imagined the fights they were involved in. I'd be lying if I said the drama of it didn't appeal to me. The power to walk away from a violent confrontation as the last one standing. I could see that rush being addicting.

"So you just walked around constantly under threat of being attacked?" I asked.

He nodded. "It was tough at first, don't get me wrong. At the beginning we would be jumpin' at shadows, mixin' up our routes to try and lose any tails… Then after a certain amount of time, we just stopped carin'. I don' know what finally did it if I'm 'onest. I just know there was a switch.

"We kept winnin'. Escapin' against the odds. Batterin' guys we'd 'eard tales about in the tarvens. The stories they told about us only pumped us up further. Inflating our egos. If you were to listen to the lads after a few drinks, you'd think we were walkin' gods. Fuck, was that addictin'. That worship."

He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times as if he was reliving those moments. His glory days.

"We got addicted to that feelin'. Addicted to the rush of the violence, and the adulation afterwards. Lookin' back, I think it was made that much worse that we never really lost. I mean sure, we 'ad to run away a time or two but that was a retreat. Nobody really managed to put us down and for years we were top of the game. Like with all things, the buzz started to go.

"There was always a new gang to fight, more territory to take, another slight to avenge. It just began to become… boring."

"And so you started spicing things up?" I ventured.

He nodded. "Marky was already carryin' the 'ourglasses by that point. 'ed become obsessed with them at some point and they 'ad already started to feed into our legends. If I remember right, it was the stories that came first about us wrapping up jobs before the final grain fell. I think we 'eard that and decided it actually sounded fun.

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"Stupid, cocky kids, we were Brandon, let me tell you. High on our own legend. Caught up in our own success and youthful invincibility that we didn' stop to think about what we were doin'. It wasn't until it all came crumblin' down that I realised 'ow up my own arse I'd become."

It was strange to think of Old Billy as a cocky kid. He had a presence about him that made me think he had been born that way. I struggled to even think about him being younger if I was honest.

"How many people did you kill?" I asked.

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I lost count after the first hundred."

My jaw dropped in disbelief. That was an outrageous amount of blood to have on his hands.

He laughed without a hint of joy. "Terrible isn't it. Hundreds of lives taken, and I can't even remember them all."

"How do you sleep at night?" The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

"'onestly Brandon? Easily. I regret the way I acted but truthfully, a lot of those people deserved to die. Either because they were tryin' to kill me and mine, or because they 'ad done some 'orrible things themselves."

"How can you say that? Isn't killing anyone bad?" I asked aghast.

"It is and it isn't," he sighed. You should do your best to prevent people dying, especially by your actions because you never know when someone can be redeemed. Sometimes it's unavoidable though. Especially in the line of work I was in. Sometimes it's the only recourse you 'ave, and if you constantly question yourself? One way or another, you're gonna end up dead."

I looked away as I thought about what he said. I understood the need to kill to survive, and after yesterday, I felt like I could do it if I had to. It just clashed with my worldview.

"How can you justify killing that many people though, Billy? I get one or two but hundreds?"

"Ah, I see where your 'eads goin'. You've got to remember it wasn' hundreds at once. Each time it was one or two. One or two people that I had to kill to survive. It's not like I was a serial killer Brandon," he laughed. "I'm not a psychopath. I was just in a lot of 'me or them' situations and I wasn' gonna let someone kill me cause 'e 'appened to be the two hundreth person who tried."

He gave me a grin that belayed the seriousness of the conversation. As if I'd suggested a stupid idea in the workshop and not that killing hundreds of people was a monstrous thing.

He let out a sigh, seeing that I wasn't laughing with him.

"Look, Brandon, it's hard to get your 'ead around when you're as young as you are. 'onestly, I 'ope it stays that way, I really do." He leaned forward and moved his head so we made eye contact. "But somethin' tells me that's not gonna be the case for you. I can see it in you. You're not cut up about the deaths yesterday are you?"

I shook my head, and he smiled.

"Because you know they deserved it. It doesn' make you a bad person, lad. It was you or them! It 'ad to be done. Do you 'ear me?"

"I get that but when we get to your numbers, it's just… a lot."

He nodded slowly. "You're right, it is. Too many really. I put myself in situations that made it a me vs them scenario and that meant people died when they could have survived. Does that mean I shouldn' 'ave killed them? No, it means I should 'ave done more to not be in that situation. That's the lesson it took me too long to learn, and I 'ope as been made clear to you after yesterday.

"People will come for you Brandon. Eventually your secret will slip and you'll be forced into a life or death situation. The way I see it you only 'ave two variables you can control. Whether that situation comes up sooner rather than later, and whether you choose their life over yours."

I'm not sure if it was his words, my own internal conflict about what happened yesterday, or his charisma but I was starting to get it more. It would be a case by case basis. If it was me vs them, I would have to choose myself, and with the danger for people with powers, I'd likely find myself in more of those situations that I'd like. I couldn't stand down just because I'd chosen myself to live before.

I nodded as I came around to his logic. Putting out the conflicting thoughts in my head that told me Billy killing that many people was wrong. It wouldn't do to dwell on it anyway, afterall, it wasn't like Billy was a monster. Dangerous sure but like he said, he wasn't a psychopath.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. I just need to make sure I don't reveal myself and then I can limit life and death situations," I nodded as I internalised the thought.

"Do you think they'll find me then?" I asked after a few moments of silent contemplation.

A soft smile grew on his face. "Yeah lad. It'll happen sooner or later. Either through something you do, or because of someone else but at some point, people will find out. It's too 'ard to keep a secret like that in 'ere."

"What do I do then?" I moaned.

"You just got to do your best to be ready for when that 'appens. I wish I 'ad all the answers for you, lad, I really do. But it's one of them things you'll 'ave to learn as you go." He paused for a moment. "There is one thing we could do though. If you're interested that is…"

"What's that?" I asked, curiously.

"We could do a little sparring. Since you mentioned how much you enjoyed training on the outside, I was thinkin' it was somethin' we could 'ave a go at. I'm not gonna claim to be the best there ever was but I reckon I could teach you a thing or two," he said with a grin.

The offer perked me up. If what was said about Billy was even half true, then I'd get experience from someone who really knew how to fight. There was so much I'd be able to learn, and it would be fun doing so. Before I'd even answered I was imagining what his fighting style was. He was big, so it would likely play into his strength. I'd probably need to be quick to counteract him.

A snap of his fingers brought me out of my reverie. I gave him a sheepish smile as he laughed.

"Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts."

"I take it you're up for it then?"

I nodded eagerly. "Yeah, lets do it. When can we start?"

"Tomorrow. After you finish your shift, go to the back of the kitchens."

"How do I get there?" The kitchens were under guard because they obviously didn't want to risk any of the prisoners not assigned there, going in to steal anything or mess with the food. I'd been warned not to mess with people's food early on and that lesson had been hammered home when I saw a man reach over the counter to try and help himself to extra servings. The response was immediate with one of the cooks smashing a frying pan into the guy's head repeatedly. It didn't stop there though.

The blood had splattered into someone else's food and they reacted violently, throwing their tray at the cook's face. What followed was a mini brawl that only stopped short of a riot because of the heavy guard presence. It was because of this that the thought of just walking into the back of the kitchens was worrying.

"I'll let the lads know you're comin' through, don' worry," he said with a knowing smirk. "There's an area back there that we can use. It's as private as you can get in a place like this, and everyone there is loyal so nobody should be talkin'."

I clenched my hands in a futile effort to contain my excitement. Tomorrow seemed too far away, I wanted to start right now. It had been too long since I had a good spar. There were no illusions that I'd win against Billy but just the chance to have a go without deadly consequences had my blood pumping. I couldn't stop myself from asking questions.

"What sort of style do you fight in?" I asked, eyes manic. "I feel like you're all about ending fights quickly so I'm guessing you go for big power blows. Maybe that's just because of what I've seen you do though. Obviously that would have some influence on my expectations. You're not too big though so I don't think you'll be incredibly slow. If I'm faster than you, I can probably just tire you out right? You're old so how much stamina do you have? And you're gonna fight fair because it's a spar, so I could probably—"

"Slow down," Billy laughed. "You'll find out the answers tomorrow. Some of 'em anyway. I can't go givin' away all my secrets, can I?" He finished with a wink, standing up.

"What? Of course you can! Tell me literally everything you know about fighting. I want to see every trick. Every ability." I told him as he walked over to me, gently but firmly pulling me to my feet and ushering me through the door. I was still speaking when it closed in my face.

Rude of him but I'd get him back. Now that he'd offered to spar with me, I was going to rinse him for every trick he had. Whether he was aware of it or not.

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