Oudegracht

"Long before. It begins." 

The song hovered thick above the grayish canals, the array of trees that always lined the cobblestone streets now taking on a somewhat murky and lonesome persona with their foggy coating.

A man strolled down the nearly deserted street, continuing his haunting hymn. 

"Make me thrill as only you know how."

The words bouncing off the water, creating a chilling echo that accentuated the smoothness of his baritone voice. 

"Sway me smooth."

From the distance he could hear the gasping laughter of two girls in vivid conversation. He could almost make out the shadowy outlines of their figures through the fog. They bounced into each other as they walked, half bent over in laughter. 

"Sway me now."

As they approached, their outlines became more vivid. He wore his top hat and five piece suit that served as his uniform. Every Friday evening he sang in a hotel lobby before a crowd of elegant upper-class businessmen and their manicured escorts. 

From the fog, the voices called. The sound was not something he could pin-point. All strangely compelling, none quite human. He could no longer see the the girls, their laughter dissipated as if eaten by the cloud. 

He raised his eyebrows. 

No fun, he thought, following the obscure sound. But what was it? Thick, rolling fog tumbled out of the approaching side street as if pumped out by an unseen midst machine.

"A performance of sorts, undoubtedly." he thought aloud. 

Screeching metal blared, piercing his ears.

"Well, damn! Is that really necessary?" 

His voice echoed down the empty alley. 

In a furious curiosity he marched towards the source of the noise, the strange and irritating screech groaning, growing louder as he approached. Now he was mad. There was no particular reason, he realized, for him to be mad, but somehow he even felt offended. 

In truth, he wasn't going to do kind things to those girls that were approaching. In fact, they're probably better off in the fog. Perhaps the fury came from the deprivation of his ability to execute those unmentionable horrors. He weighed this in his head as he followed the sounds down the street. 

It appeared that there was nothing in the alleyway. The fog seemed to have thinned out in front of him and he could make out the doors and bricks of the buildings lining the street. Perplexed, he nudged his head back and turned on his heel. 

Before he realized it, he was consumed by the noise. Darkness filled up around him as if the fog had shifted its color to black. He could not see his hands or feel his face, only hear that grinding, screeching noise. The noise bleared through his mind, so unlike any machine, or animal, or phenomenon he had ever heard or could possibly imagine. 

It was as if a large mass of water containing multiple shards of glass were being passed through a very small metal pipe under high pressure while an electric saw cut metal in competitive loudness. 

And it consumed him. He wanted to cover his ears or to walk away but he couldn't. There was no up or down, just noise. Unescapable noise.

As panic began to build up within him he felt the cool press of metal on his skin. Until that moment his body seemed like something distant, something beyond his control. In a way it was, for he was unable to move on his own or connect to his extremities, yet this sensation he could feel. 

Silence suddenly filled the air. The only noise now was the two girls gasping laughter rising in the air.  

"Girls!" he called out. 

"Yes?" they laughed back.