The man got up and sauntered towards the gate.
Just before he pressed the intercom button, the rains ceased. He hesitated, and for a fleeting moment, his old looks melted away; the fine young man he could have been appeared in the shadow of the hat's brim. There was a smile on his lips; a glint in his eye.
Then, just as surprisingly and quickly as it had stopped, the gloom and pitter-patter of the rain came back, and wrinkles and blood-shot eyes replaced his beautiful features. He pressed the button and spoke into the intercom. Silence asked the reason for the visit. "I'm here to see them", he answered.
The metal ebony gates creaked open, to an empty, wet compound. In front of him was a lift, which took him to the inner workings of the clock. He walked to the middle of the rigging that spanned the entire, giant structure.
And there they were. Weights pulling themselves, bells ringing with no no force acting upon them A myriad of golden devils; a horde of sycophantic naysayers. He shouted, begging for them to stop. But if the contraptions had ears, they ignored his pleas for peace. In complete desperation, he grabbed the clapper of the largest bell and tried to hold it down, an eleventh-hour attempt before the 12th strike.
But it swung effortlessly, and tossed him against the inside of the bell, shattering his headphones.
And there he laid, writhing on the floor, his ears possessed by the demonic sound. you are nothing one chimed. nobody cares for you rang another.
All his work, everything he ever had was gone because of the bells.
And now he was too.
