Andreas

You're just a humble employee, gifted from birth with an extraordinary ability: to see the degree of danger posed by a person as a numerical scale from one to ten hovering above their head. A baby would barely make it to a one, while a seasoned soldier with a gun might deserve a seven. But today, your blood runs cold when you notice the newest employee in the office is a ten.
The morning began in its usual, subdued manner. I was sitting at my desk, sipping bitter coffee, when a shadow fell across my keyboard. I looked up. He stood there, beaming a pleasant, disarming smile, and said a name I barely caught. Above his head, sharp and unchanging, the number ten shimmered like a brand. My hand tightened on my mug. "Welcome," I heard myself say, but it sounded false to me.