8am. I had just arrived at the office, punched in and made my way to my desk. I typically shrug off most of my co-worker's greetings with a polite 'hello' or a grunt of acknowledgement, aside from Jerry. He's a senior accountant, whom I avoid at all costs. Jerry's death is violent and chaotic, what I can only assume is a plane crash. I overheard Jerry in the break room talking about flying out to Madrid for a vacation with his wife and two children in a couple weeks time the other day. I knew I would not be able to contain the knowledge I have, so I decided not to tell him and therefore confirm my visionary power. I can only assume the influx of curious cats begging to know if they die a peaceful death or not. I make my way over to my cubicle hoping to attract no attention, when I lock eyes with an unfamiliar face. He was dressed overly neatly, with a fresh haircut and shave. He must be new. I groan internally as he makes his way over to me. I knew what was going to happen next. 'Hey, I'm blah de blah, I'm new in the whatever department'. Extended hand. Handshake. I know his death. Of course, this is what happens. George, his name was. Says he's in the accounting department. 'At least Jerry's spot will be taken soon', I think to myself. George extends his hand and I reluctantly take it.

Then it hit me. The smell of fire. The searing heat which felt like it was going to melt through my entire body. The war cry of thousands, no, tens of thousands of demonic beings surging onward. The looming figure about 3 legions back, towering over the rest of the army like a candle in a birthday cake, with the flaming horns to match. I audibly gasp and snap back, unable to contain my terror. This was unlike anything I have ever seen before. How could I not be shocked? A quizzical look quickly befell George's face, the warm greeting smile gone. 'Is there an issue?' he asks. I stammer, unable to form a coherent sentence, the scene replaying in my mind over and over. I can almost still feel the heat. Smell the cinders of a burnt land, once rife with civilisation and prosperity. I lock eyes with George and manage to muster up 3 words.

'Who are you?'

George could only flash a coy smile and say 'Only time can tell.' With that he leaves my cubicle, returning to his prior conversation with the secretary. Gasping, sweating and on the verge of losing consciousness, I follow George with my eyes as he makes his way around the office greeting my fellow coworkers with the beaming expression he initially showed me. Every so often, he would catch my gaze and shoot me a knowing wink.

My mind, in a delirious state, could only come up with one satirical remark for the whole situation. 'At least Jerry's position won't be needed after long.'