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In the 666 West End Avenue Novel:
My dear Novitiates,
By the time, Robin Saint Sinclair "occupies" 666 West End Avenue, I, too, reside in the extraordinary metropolis of New York City. My apartment is No. 3 on the ninth floor. But I wouldn't come knocking without an appointment. Merely a word to the wise.
But who can doubt that I am a GENIUS of the first water? Not I, since who is there who could stand beside me and match my light?
And yet what has happened? Oh, invidious fortune! So many of my beautiful ideas have been stolen by that vermin, that invalorous cad, Thomas Alva Edison...and I am left to languish in obscurity. I swear by all that is holy and all too that is unholy, that should it be the last thing I ever do I will pay in equal coin for what that man has done to me. Already, I have projects simmering within my febrile brain—yet in no way diminished for mine ia a brain like no other ever manifested in this peculiar reality—that will not only astound the world, but will reduce Mr. Edison right down to the molecules of which he is composed. And then I shall rearrange those same molecules into a being of my own choice. Inside, Edison, entirely aware, shall be trapped, but will be unable to do a single thing about it. Mess with Tesla? Foolish foolish man. How I will delight in the thing I shall make of him!
In my laboratory, there is nothing I cannot accomplish.
Nikolai Tesla, avenger extraordinaire
My Reference Books:
Robin Saint Sinclair
Prince of Darkness
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