The Demons New Princess, page 1
The Demons New Princess
The Devils Land Series
Sam Ruiz
WoundedNothings
Copyright © 2024 by Sam Ruiz
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [include publisher/author contact info].
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book Cover by Cara Blaine
Illustrations by Sam Ruiz
1st edition 2024
Contents
Dedication
Playlist
Content Warnings
1. The Empress
2. The Fool
3. Reversed Eight of Cups
4. Nine of Wands
5. The Chariot
6. The Tower
7. Knight of Pentacles
8. Knight of Swords
9. Justice
10. Reverse Wheel of Fortune
11. The Hierophant
12. The World
13. Death
14. Seven of Cups
15. Page of Wands
16. Reversed Emperor
About the author
This book is for people who have struggled with mental health. It's okay not to be okay and sometimes it's harder than others but I know that you can make it. My door is always open to talk and remember I'm proud of each and everyone of you.
Playlist
Sounds of Birdsongs – Wildlife Bill
Chaos – Hollywood Undead
The Reaper – Pierce The Veil
Changes – 3 Doors Down
Anywhere Else but Here – Simple plan
My Demons – Starset
Falling Inside the Black – Skillet
Feeling Watched – Atmosturia
If I Could Turn Back Time – Cher
Burn It to the Ground – Nickleback
Outcast – NF
Home – Daughtry
Coming Out Fighting – Rend Collective
Cracker Jack – Dolly Parton
Real Friends – Camila Cabello
Brave – Sara Bareilles
One Man Can Change The World – Big Sean
Girl Crush – Little Big Town
True Colors – Anna Kendrick and Justin Timberlake
What Ifs – Kane Brown
Never Too Late – Three Days Grace
Knife Under My Pillow – Maggie Lindemann
White Liar – Miranda Lambert
Let You Down – NF
Carry on Wayward Son – Kansas
Your Betrayal – Bullet For My Valentine
Content Warnings
Blood, Bodily Waste, Child Abuse (Not described only the aftermath), Death, Decapitation, Domestic Abuse, Drug use, Eating disorders, Extreme Violence, Gore, Mental Illness, PTSD, Racism, Self-harm, Sexual abuse (discussed), Kidnapping, War, Talk of Suicide
The Empress
May 12, 2026, 5:30 A.M.
Sitting cross-legged, I feel the cool earth beneath my hands, savoring the connection to nature. With each fingertip sinking into the calming dirt, I am connected to Her, vibrant energy flowing through me. Slowly, my body puddles into the ground, my lips curling into a smile as I merge my energy with Mother Earth’s raw power. It feels like a wave of tingling sensations, starting at my fingertips, and traveling up my arms, as if a gentle breeze embraces me. Peering through half-lidded eyes, I watch auras of birds gliding through the air before landing in a tree above me.
The surrounding air is alive with an intoxicating energy, its pulse calling out to me. Begging me to never leave its warm embrace. I pray to the Goddess, my morning mantra a part of my ritual to make today the best it can possibly be.
Goddess,
Allow me this time to sit with nature.
Every inch bathed in Her brilliant light.
Goddess,
I thank you for this brand-new day.
Guide my steps and give me wisdom and strength.
Goddess,
Thank you for your blessings.
For saving me from a cruel home
Today gives me the power of change.
I want to see the world anew.
With eyes full of love,
Allow me to be patient, understanding, and wise.
Thank you, my Goddess, for hearing my plea!
A comforting warmth spreads throughout me from my heart, as if the Goddess herself responds to my prayer. A buzz emanates from my fitness tracker on my wrist. A sense of sadness washes over me, and I exhale a melancholy sigh.
Unfortunately, I can’t stay here all day if I want to practice before the photoshoot.
Straining to keep my eyes open, the sun flooding the surrounding forest, I take in the sight of the majestic pine trees enclosing me, their vibrant green needles swaying in the faint breeze. Sensing the cool dirt beneath my palms, I revel in the sensation as it sifts through my fingers. Reuniting with its brethren on the ground, the grains produce a soothing, musical patter. Allowing myself a few deep breaths, I feel the gentle embrace of the Goddess’s love blessed upon me today. It’s a new experience that has me floating. She’s never been this close to me, and I hope this feeling never fades.
Pulling out my paper targets, I position them ten feet from me at different heights. Not a very challenging distance at my skill level, but practice is still practice. Practice is always worth it, even if it’s not always your best being challenged.
I listen to the wind rustling through the trees, taking a slow, deep breath as I release an arrow. With a satisfying thud, my first arrow strikes the smaller target I’d positioned high in a tree dead center, and a rush of excitement surges through me. As I release more arrows, my smile grows in satisfaction as they find their way to the various targets. Notching my final arrow, I prepare myself for another victorious shot, but as I release it, another vibration against my wrist distracts me, causing my shot to go astray and disappear into the trees.
Damn it.
With a groan, I turn off my alarm and curse myself for agreeing to take pictures at such a stupid hour.
I know I practice at this time. Stupid MJ stupid.
Stepping beneath the trees, my gaze immediately falls upon the underbrush where I diligently search for my lost arrow. Startled by a rustling sound, I turn to see a rabbit sprinting out of the sagebrush, my heart racing. Breathing out a heavy breath and retrieving my arrow in a slow circle, I search for the predator that must be lurking nearby. As if on cue, a small red fox emerged from the brush, its swift movements and determined chase. My heart fills with guilt as I don’t move to intervene. The predator effortlessly seizes its prey, ending its life with a swift snap of its sharp teeth.
Nature fascinates me, and I recognize the predator-prey relationship, where the fox relies on the rabbit as a vital source of sustenance. I understand the biological reasons for prey to reproduce quickly, yet it pains me to witness the cycle of life and death. Witnessing the fox devour its meal, I quickly send a prayer to the Goddess, hoping the rabbit’s soul remains protected, and the fox continues to prosper.
Slipping quietly back to where I’d been practicing, my brain ebbs and spirals. Overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions, I got to experience both joy and sadness as I bear witness to the raw beauty of nature, yet I can’t ignore the unfortunate reality of the weak being constantly targeted.
Stepping up to one of my targets, I pull out my arrow from the tree, ambling back to the target I’d shot last. Examining the puncture mark on the target, something doesn’t look quite right. Holding it closer to my face, I notice I’d missed the center by a hair just slightly below.
Goddess, MJ missing such an easy shot. What is going on with you today?
A cacophony of footfalls coming from my left has me shaking in my combat boots. The sudden noise terrifies me in a way I haven’t experienced in years, but when I look around, I see nothing. The noise continues to grow before a herd of forest creatures scramble through the underbrush: squirrels, mice, chipmunks, and deer all running for their lives. As they scurry past my feet, a chill runs down my back from their abnormal indifference to my presence, more unusual than their stampede.
I stand dazed, watching as they run down the mountainside, their footfalls banishing the quiet morning. My intuition urges me to investigate the unusual behavior of the creatures, knowing something is wrong, but my practical mind reminds me of my pressing need to get to work and earn money to pay my never-ending bills. I rock on my feet, feeling the two conflicting emotions battling inside me as the breeze transforms from a gentle, inviting warmth to a biting cold.
“Goddess, what is going on? Your energy is suddenly so strange. It makes me feel like I’m walking through sludge. The bile in my stomach is eating through the lining of it.”
I can’t shake the feeling I’m forgetting something or overlooking a vital clue as I prepare and stow away my bow and arrows on the back of my 2015 Harley-Davidson Cruiser. My final alarm jolts me into action, reminding me not to waste any more time or I’ll miss capturing the photo the paper wants of the school’s windows shining at sunrise.
May 12, 2026, 6:15 A.M.
&
nbsp; My camera’s focus blurs as my body tremors, randomly at first, then constantly.
Why the fuck am I shaking? I ate this morning, so there’s no fucking reason my body should yell at me like this.
An earsplitting crack reverberates off the surrounding mountains, causing me to jump in surprise. The ground jolts, throwing me back at least a foot, and I land flat on my back.
I’ve never been happier for my bubble butt.
Suddenly, another jolt tosses the camera from my hands, causing my heart to plummet into my ass. I throw myself forward and snatch it at the last second, wincing as the rough gravel grazes my elbow, tiny rocks embedding into my skin. Rolling onto my back, I cradle my camera to my chest for a heartbeat, sighing in relief, before the ground rolls like waves on the ocean. Time slows, as I stand. Everything suspended in the air. Time freezes the world around me. Twisting my head, I plead for my ears to work again, to hear something more than my heartbeat pounding in my ears. This twilight zone shit scares the hell out of me.
A deafening crash breaks through the paradox, sound rushing in to fill the void. The screeching of tires echoes moments before shattering glass sends a shiver through my body. A silver car collides with the old red-bricked house across the street, flames flowing from the broken back window as the house consumes half of the vehicle. My stomach drops. Whoever is in the car didn’t make it. Not with how quickly the flames consumed it and half a building on top of them.
The terror-fueled screams behind me caused me to quickly spin around, my attention now focused on the elementary school. The deafening sound of the three-story building crumbling echoes through the air, accompanied by the agonizing cries of frightened children, as sharp fragments of glass mercilessly carve into my exposed skin. The sound of cracking fills the air as the ground beneath the school gives way, causing spiderweb cracks to appear on the building’s surface.
“Help!”
A small cry peaks over all the other noises, drawing my attention from the broken building.
‘Mommy!’ I cry before his foot digs into my kidney, dragging the breath from my lungs. The steel toe bruises my skin instantly, tears filling my eyes… No, MJ; now is not the time for these fucked up memories. A kid is crying for help. Goddess, help me now.
I berate myself for getting lost in the pain of my past. Debris flies around me as another jolt shakes the ground beneath my feet. Wasting a few precious seconds, I carefully stow my camera in its cushioned bag while trying to brace myself against the relentless aftershocks. As I turn to move forward, a baseball-sized piece of the school grazes the top of my shoulder, causing a searing pain to shoot through my body before everything goes numb.
What the fuck?
My old health teacher’s voice fills my head, droning on about how adrenaline in high-stress situations sometimes causes the body’s nervous system to block out pain receptors.
“I need to get out of here,” I whisper, turning from the building. “This place is a death trap. With my luck, I’m going to end up falling into that pit of death.”
“Help!”
The cry comes again, echoing through me as I turn from the building.
“Fuuuck,” I curse, forcing my body back to race toward the panicking voice. Scanning the rubble as I go, I pray to find the owner of the desperate pleas, but I’m not that lucky.
Instead, I’m greeted by the haunting image of a young boy’s lifeless face. I’ve never seen a dead body this close and fresh before. We knew it was coming, so it wasn’t a surprise that Dad’s funeral was a closed casket. His battle with cancer left us with no choice.
This boy can’t be older than eight. His skin is already ashy gray. My stomach roils. That’s not fucking right. My vision blurs. It’s not fucking fair; why did this cute little red-headed boy have to fucking die when worse people are still breathing in this world? I gaze further down at his body crushed beneath a huge chunk of the school; blood splattered from the initial impact and now pools around him like some sick chalk art created on the sidewalk. His dark green and gold speckled eyes burn into me, piercing painfully into my soul.
“Mother Nature, please accept this innocent soul back into your loving arms,” I pray, seconds before bile rises. I barely avoid vomiting on the boy. Painful retching grips my insides, my core feeling as if I just completed the most intense ab routine of my entire life. My chest moves to my knees as my heartbeat drowns out all the noise and chaos surrounding me. My camera case pinches my side and I throw it to the side as I empty my stomach. As my upheaval calms and my heartbeat returns to normal, what feels like a thousand years later, the desperate cry that dragged me here pushes past everything, bringing along a second voice pleading for help in unison with the first.
Fuck, one kid was going to be hard enough getting out of this death trap.
Drawing my sleeves along my mouth, I stand, ignoring the pinching in my stomach, pushing past the discomfort as I make my way further through the rubble. Scurrying over large boulders, ignoring the dreadful number of bodies strewn around me, I must locate the pleading voice before it’s too late for us. I turn in a circle. The pleas have gone silent. I’m surrounded by chaos and I want to leave.
What if I’m too late? What if the voices have gone quiet because they’ve been lost? Wait, a damn minute; what am I doing? I don’t even like kids. Why the fuck am I determined to risk my life for some random, faceless child?
Pained and panicked screams echo around the destruction, making my blood run cold.
Breathe MJ; I know this child’s cries remind you of your own broken self. You think helping them can heal you? You think helping them can heal yourself somehow? You fucking idiot.
I argue and berate myself, the harsh words echoing in my mind as I scramble over the boulders, feeling the constant jostling of my bag against my side. The overwhelming frustration threatens to break my spirit, yet my determination remains unyielding. It’s during this moment of doubt I see a young boy, his skin a beautiful shade of mocha, sliding towards the crevice. His outstretched arms show his commitment to saving whoever’s over the edge. The only thing preventing him from falling over the edge is the firm grip of his legs wrapped around the pole. Not another living sole insight.
An ear-piercing scream fills the air as I watch his feet slip. Without hesitation, my legs spring into action and propel me towards the boy, crashing into his legs as his upper body teeters over the edge. My weight stops him from moving any further but causes him to scream in pain. Both of us are hit with my camera bag as I attempt to move it out of the way. Ignoring his cries, I move just enough to see over the opening without losing my grip. With a beautiful complexion, a girl much younger than him hangs helplessly from his hands. Her eyes, a warm dark chocolate color, are as wide as saucers as tears flow down her cheeks like rivers.
“Okay guys, I need you to calm down. I know it’s fucking easier said than done, but the more you panic and wiggle, the harder it’s going to be for me to pull you up,” I shout down at them, hoping they can hear me over the sounds of their screams and falling debris. To my relief, they still, their screams stopping as they crane their necks to look at me, masks of surprise stamped on their face.
“I thought you were a chunk of the school landing on me,” the boy groans in discomfort.
Did he just call me fat?
My muscles tense, pain and panic warring within me. Closing my eyes for a split second, I let out an audible groan. Seriously MJ, this is not the fucking time for your old insecurities. Worry about that shit later. You’re the badass, curvy bitch you were always meant to be. We don’t have time for this. With eyes unfocused, I visualize my giant ass bunker I hold my trauma in slamming the door closed before focusing back on my task.
