Angel Copperfield

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by Jengod

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else – perhaps Buffy – these pages must show. To begin my life with the beginning of my life, I record that I was turned (as I have been informed and believe) on a Friday, at twelve o'clock at night. It was remarked that the clock began to strike, and I began to bleed, simultaneously.
In consideration of the day and hour of my changing, it was declared by my sire, and by some sage barmaids in the neighbourhood who had taken a lively interest in me several months before there was any possibility of my becoming a demon, first, that I was destined to be unlucky in life; and secondly, that I was privileged to see ghosts and spirits; both these gifts inevitably attaching, as they believed, to all unlucky gentleman of any station, who are turned into vampires towards the small hours on a Friday night.
I need say nothing here, on the first head, because nothing can show better than my history whether that prediction was verified or falsified by the result. On the second branch of the question, I will only remark, that have I not run through that part of my inheritance since I first met my sire and I have not come out it yet. But since I have returned from hell, I do not at all complain of having been given this property; and do my best to live my life in enjoyment of my service to the powers that be.

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