Another instance is Pyramids by Terry Pratchett (1989), in which the titular pyramids are used to focus and store energy in order to halt or reverse the flow of time. The excess is flared off, making a certain sound:
The sun rose. As the golden light spilled down the fertile valley of the Djel the pyramid flares paled and became ghost dancers against the lightening sky. They were now accompanied by a noise. It had been there all the time, far too high-pitched for mortal ears, a sound now dropping down from the far ultrasonic.
KKKkkkkkkhhheeee...
It screamed out of the sky, a thin rind of sound like a violin bow dragged across the raw surface of the brain.
kkkkheeeeeee...
Or a wet fingernail dragged over an exposed nerve, some said. You could set your watch by it, they would have said, if anyone knew what one was.
...keeee...
It went deeper and deeper as the sunlight washed over the stones, passing through cat scream to dog growl.
...ee...ee...ee...
The flares collapsed.
...ops.
