Valkyrie
The vampire princess
Book 1
Valkyrie – the vampire princess saga
By
PET TORRES
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Valkyrie the Vmapire Princess Saga
Copyright © 2013 by Pet Torres books
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
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Title: Valkyrie - The vampire princess
Author: Pet Torres
Original title: Valquíria – a princesa vampira
Translation: (2013) Pet Torres books
Reviser: 16/11/2013
Electronics edition: (2013) Pet Torres books
Books in this Saga
Valkyrie - the vampire princess, Book# 1
Valkyrie - the vampire princess 2, Book# 2
Valkyrie - the vampire princess 3, Book#3
Valkyrie - the vampire princess 4, Book# 4
Valkyrie - the vampire princess 5, Book# 5
Valkyrie - the vampire princess 6, Book# 6
VALKYRIE
The vampire Princess
Saga
See Valkyrie – the vampire princess Saga Book trailer
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Table of contents
Titlepage
Dedicated
Acknowledgments
SYNOPSIS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
Other books by Pet Torres
Contat me
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Valkyrie- the vampire princess Booktrailer
Dedicated
To my parents
To My sisters
To my nephews
Acknowledgments
To my dear readers
Evanescence band
I got enthusiastic about its melodies.
SYNOPSIS
Valkyrie is a young girl who has been raised only by her mother, who has suffered a lot by getting pregnant without knowing who the real father of her daughter was.
Valkyrie grew up having recurring strange dreams about a man she has never seen in her life.
When she meets Eros, a handsome and attractive boy, mystery becomes part of her everyday life.
Some nights, she sleeps with an owl watching her.
Wondrous revelations come as time wears on, changing her life forever…
CHAPTER 1
It all started in 1991, when my mother became pregnant. My father had always been an enigma for me.
I never knew about his existence; who he was... how he was similar to me and where he came from.
My mother did not like talking about him. She just said he was a big error in her life. Even so, I did not know exactly why she always said that to me.
I grew up in a narrow world, where my mother constantly imposed all the rules of what I should or should not do. I always asked myself if she was making the right decision by educating me that way, since my colleagues were educated in another way. Even so, I never countered her, as I thought she was the only person I had in my life. She was the most important person to me.
The two of us lived in a house, in a town called...
This does not matter. What does matter is that I moved away from towns time and time again, almost always.
It seemed my mother never wanted to establish roots in any one place. I thought she lived running away from something or somebody. Maybe she was fleeing my father...
CHAPTER 2
When I was seven, I began to have strange dreams and they were always of the same scenes. There was a man in a dark place. It was an empty hall with several cobwebs on the ceiling and the ground was replete with dust.
That was a dark and unknown place for me. I did not get to see his face, but I could hear his voice calling my name.
“Valkyrie... Valkyrie...”
It was a far and tremulous voice. It was as if he was distant from me and he tried to communicate with me by telepathy. Every time I dreamed of h
im, I awakened with heavy breathing. It seemed so real - everything that I had dreamed of.
Nevertheless, I grew up fearing to those dreams. It made no sense for me to have them.
The following day, I told everything to my mother while she made our breakfast.
“I dreamed of him again,’’ I said to her as I took a seat at the table.
“What have you dreamed this time?” my mother asked, intrigued.
“The same as always; he just calls my name,” I answered as I took my milk.
CHAPTER 3
We went into the car and drove to another town. It seemed to be less populous. The town center looked very scenic. It was small and empty. I could calculate on my fingers the numer of people that walked around the place.
We stopped driving at a gas station to fill up our car. My mother asked the attendant where there might be accommodation to rent at an affordable price. My mother had some savings that would maintain us for a long time. That was the fruit from an inheritance of our family. The attendant indicated to us a residence which took twenty minutes from the town center.
When we arrived at the house, my mother agreed to rent it because there was antique furniture, however quite conserved. There was a fabulous backyard with several trees. I saw fruits that I had never known and I would get to know them.
We entered into the house and we unpacked our suitcases. Then I went into my room and my mother went into hers.
Later on I went to speak to my mother in the backyard.
“You need to enroll me at high school.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow.”
It was my final year at high school. I was about to complete my school experience.
Even though I kept running from town to town, I never repeated any year at school. On the contrary, I was considered to be the best student in my class.
CHAPTER 4
I arrived at my new school. I was carrying my new notebook and necessary objects for my first lesson for the day.
I walked through the school courtyard, which was immense. I noticed that every pupil stared at me. They most likely knew I was a freshman. I did not really want to make friends at this point as I wanted to be alone.
As soon as I entered into my classroom, I was introduced to all the students by the school mistress. I was already used to that kind of reception, since I attended several schools in several cities.
My classroom was small and there were only a few pupils. It was better that way. I kept to myself even with many people round me.
At the end of class, I walked slowly to the female toilet. I was menstruating and needed to check myself.
When I arrived at the bathroom door, I saw a girl from my class. She looked at herself in the mirror all the time, as she threw her hair from side to side, trying to look more beautiful.
I stopped looking at her as soon as I noticed she looked at me through the mirror. Then she turned to face me and said, “Hi, my name is Mirta.”
“Hi... Mirta.”
“
What do you think of this school?” she asked me while she looked me over from head to foot. It was as if she thought I was not up to her style and fashion standard.
“... Ok...” I said what came in my mind.
“Let’s be friends?” she asked me as she leapt for joy.
“Yes... sure!” I responded robotically. I did not know her well enough for us to be friends so fast.
“Fine!” She gave me a strong embrace, while she commemorated our friendship’s beginning.
“I like you!” she confessed looking at my face. “You look sincere.”
“And I am sincere,” I finally said.
“Me too, I hate falseness.”
We left school together. She talked to me all the time. We had a chat about school and the people in that place, which of our teachers was fine and which was not, what was permitted in our school and who we should trust.
As soon as I came back home, I saw my mother was reading while lying down on the living- room couch as she was waiting for my return.
“How was school?” she asked me with her curious eyes on me.
“Great! There are only a few pupils in my school,” I said without complaint even though I confess I had attended some of the best schools.
“It was like I had imagined...” my mother said as she closed her book.
“I met a girl called ‘Mirta’. She wants to be my friend.”
“I want to meet her.”
“Okay, sheriff, I’ll bring her here.”
For me it was no surprise my mother wanted to know her. She had always taken these precautions with regard to my friendships. She always wanted to be well aware that I was in good company.
I took a warm bath and put on my comfortable clothes. I remained in my room for hours, writing down in my small diary about my first day in school. I had always been a solitary person. Therefore I had a habit of opening my heart to a piece of paper. I thought that was quite secure. I knew that those words would never go out there, except of course if someone read them.
I wrote about Mirta in my diary. I sensed that our friendship would be special and enduring...
CHAPTER 5
I arrived late into my classroom. Every pupil looked at me with reproach. Rarely did that occur between pupils. I took a seat at my place without glancing from side to side even though I was dying of shame.
Reinforcing my timidity before everyone, I was called to attention by my female teacher. She loudly announnced that there should not be delays in her classes.
I agreed with her words, as I was just nodding my head at her.
During the break, Mirta and I went to the bathroom. We walked together all the time.
“What is up, are you annoyed?” she asked when she noticed a deep sadness in my gaze while I was leaning against the bathroom wall.
“Sometimes I feel I am in the wrong place,” I revealed as I was looking down at the ground.
“Are you like this just because you were called to attention by our teacher?”
“No... I mention... too...” I responded as I was rubbing my forehead. I was a little confused by everything.
“Do not worry about that. All of us have a right to make a mistake and you did not make it on purpose. ”
“Knowing you is the best thing that has happened to me in this school,” I spoke regaining my composure.
In fact, she was the ‘second best thing’ because the ‘first best thing’ would be coming up, I just did not know it yet.
CHAPTER 6
The following day, I arrived in my classroom before everybody else. It was only me, the board and the desks...
I thought that if I arrived early, at least I would not run the risk of being humiliated again.
I opened my notebook to verify my school schedule. I was staring down at the white leaf, when I heard someone’s footsteps arriving into the classroom. Automatically, I cast an investigative look at the classroom door to see who was entering. At that instant I thought that this was some teacher.
Raising my head up, I saw a boy, standing, looking for a place to sit down. I remained still, ashamed for being alone with him in that room. I buried my face into my notebook with the intention of not being noticed by him.
He took a seat at the desk furthest to the back very distant from me. I could not see him. I just listened to his impatient movements as he was beating his pen onto his desk over and over and over. It seemed it was tiresome for him to be there.
I felt suffocated and was begging for someone to come into the room and break the tense atmosphere. I did not know why I felt troubled by his presence. It seemed almost as if he was guarding me.I felt something strange, as if he was there to protect me or something like that.
I rubbed my neck on my right side into a nervous crescent. I felt that he observed all my movements. Then I ran my hand down on my notebook and turned over the page as I pretended to be reading in silence.
No less than two minutes later
, Mirta arrived in the classroom and she looked beautiful, as usual. Her hair was loose and her make-up enhanced her fair face.
“Upon my soul! You got up early this morning!” she exclaimed while she placed her pink knapsack onto her desk.
I just saluted her with a humble smile, avoiding talking as the strange boy would hear my timid voice.
“We have a new schoolmate,”Mirta commented into my ear when she saw the young boy seated in the corner of the classroom.
I remained mute. I could not really say anything as I was thinking that there was a stranger in my classroom.
“Why are you silent today?” Mirta insisted.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I murmured while I rose from my chair and went to my destination in a hurry.
Mirta realised she and the boy was alone in the classroom, so she took the initiative to go in his direction and try to start a conversation. This was something I would never have the courage to do.
“Welcome to the classroom!” she said as she put out her hand to him. However, he remained motionless, that is, he was serious and mute and he did not greet her, making her feel uncomfortable.
“Sorry!” she said and her cheeks became red. Then she turned her back to him, walked back to her place and sat down in her chair. She was angry at the boy’s indifference.