Our team of astronauts received a terrifying radio transmission, written by Black Volumes.

You will perish in circles and circles and circles and circles.

NASA received that message on January 4th, 2015.

The signal was deformed and fuzzy due to distance, yet spoken in perfect English.

This excited every other scientist entrusted with such classified information, but it terrified me.

You see, I had heard that exact recording when I was a child.

Twenty-two years earlier, those eleven words had buzzed through the speakers of my bedside radio alarm, startling me awake.

Worse still, I was a seven-year-old boy hearing that garbled and metallic voice for the first time,

but it somehow sounded disquietingly familiar.

I had never heard it before, yet I had.

I tried to assure myself that my alarm clock had simply malfunctioned and switched itself

onto a strange frequency, some late night radio

station.

But I didn't buy that.

I knew it was a message.

A message meant for me.

Now if that had been an isolated incident, perhaps I would have come to tell myself that

the entire ordeal had just been a child's convincing dream,

but the horror didn't stop there.

It was at high school that I first noticed them, the circles, marked in pen on paper, graffiti on brickwork,

and scuffed dirt tracks on the football field.

Day after day those menacing shapes followed me. There was a certain jaggedness to the linework.

...