Peter Octavian

It had been...months now? A year, maybe?...since the demon lord had entered Peter, clawed his way inside and made Peter a puppet in his own flesh. Much of his memory - of the time and of before - was mercifully vague, the only saving grace of this latest torture. And now, here was Meaghan, and Will, and the Stranger, and Peter wanted to shout to them, tell them to be careful, it isn't me!

( Cut for length, but also blood and guts )