Years ago. No date. NYC.
The first time he realized he was inside the book it was a clear morning. Alex looked at the window and he felt strange. He has the familiar sensation that he had forgotten something. What? He didn’t know. Yesterday, Alex was talking with Michael about something, about… a book! Yes, he could remember then: the novel.
Alex apartment was just a little living room with an American kitchen… nothing more than a bathroom and two more wardrobes, just the necessary for a single man with no opportunities or desires to get married. From the great bed he could see his proud and carefully book collection… but the book he was looking for it was not in the shelves… it was on the bedside table and it was waiting for him….
…And he began to read.
… And somewhere in Manhattan, at Day VI, someone asked:
‘Do you remember the book, doctor?’
‘The book was on the shelves waiting for Alex.’ The doctor answered. ‘He didn’t know anything about it, but the book knew everything about him. It was a little apartment with just a living room and a carefully book collection that his father brought to him for his 25th birthday.’
‘What was he thinking when you were reading the book?’
…And he discovered that old Michael was a character in that book called Ten Masks of Evil.
‘The cigars… the man with the hat… was he old Michael?’
The book talked about a strange man with a hat… from the beginning, the man looks the same, but he is not the same… he is a strange character that lives in every story and in everytime, a man who looks like a devil or even the Devil… the main character in the book but never the main character.
‘He creates an illusion, a fake game about the ten stories.’
‘What will happen to me when this finish?’
‘Nobody knows now. Mr Wilson has the answer.’
And Doctor Mirror laughed.
‘Why do you laugh, my friend?’
‘Mr Wilson? That was the name of the book character, William Wilson.’ Alex finally ended.