Henry tugged at his fleshy wrists and ankles, trying to free them from the sheepskin and leather restraints as police and paramedics wheeled the gurney into an emergency room cubicle.

“Lies! It’s all lies!” he screamed.

“We have a special admission tonight,” the psychiatrist told the ER Charge Nurse after examining Henry. “Please arrange for our patient to be admitted to room 32 in the Psychiatric unit.”

The police arrested Henry after catching him peeping through a window at a plump but luscious housewife near his house. During questioning, they discovered similarities between his activities and the recent rapes and murders of a pert college student on a park jogging path, and a brunette attorney working late in her ground floor office across from the park.

They charged him with suspicion of murder, and brought him in for evaluation. Henry denied killing them, though he admitted the student was a sinner who tried to seduce him by jogging past him in the park wearing skimpy shorts and tops. And the attorney deliberately wore tight skirts and tops that barely contained her fleshy breasts one attempting to fuel his lust while he peeped through her window.

Henry lay strapped to a hospital bed in the center of room 32. He glanced around the dimly lit room and figured it had been an operating room converted to a storage room. A circular surgical lamp hung from the ceiling, while IV poles and vital signs monitors were shoved against the wall next to several glass and steel supply cabinets. Heavy wire mesh lined the windows, and a strong medicinal odor hung in the air.

If Mother were here, Henry thought, she would comfort him. After his father left for another woman, Mother became the foundation of his life. She promised she was the only woman he could ever trust and would never leave him.

“Women are dirty creatures,” she said. “They lie and cheat, and do dirty, sinful things to men. Stay away from them.”

Mother always comforted him when dirty thoughts clouded his mind. In return, he promised to never let a woman do naughty things, or make him have bad thoughts. But after she died, he felt ill-equipped to deal with those things ...

Henry glanced toward the open, hallway door as a young, anorexic-looking woman with stringy, disheveled hair slowly shuffled past. She stopped and looked at Henry. Her expressionless, deep-set eyes seemed to stare right through him.

Her untied hospital gown slid over her shoulders, and she made no attempt to cover up her skeletal back and doughy butt-cheeks. Henry shivered, and his veins pulsated with uncontrollable thoughts of desire. Then the woman disappeared past the door..

The nurse stepped into the room, and gave him a light sedative. The room turned hazy and then went dark.

Henry awakened a few hours later, and spotted a shadowy figure by the open door. He recognized the thin woman who walked by earlier. After closing the door she crossed the floor in her stocking feet.

She leaned down and stared into his eyes, smiling. “Hello, I was beginning to think you were never going to awaken.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Crazy Jenny, your neighbor down the hall. I thought you might want some company.”

“Aren’t you curious to know why I am strapped down?” Henry asked.

“Duh!” she said, tilting her head to one side, as if studying him. “Probably because you’re dangerous. Of course, everyone is dangerous nowadays.”

Jenny sat on the bed next to Henry. She placed her hand on his thigh, and his muscles shuddered with an electric shock of excitement.

“Well, Jenny, why don’t you release my hands from these straps, so I can sit up?” Henry asked.

His mind raced with all that he wanted to do to her.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Jenny replied. “I am pretty sure I know what would happen.”

His smile faded. “You know, you’re the type of woman Mother said I should watch out for. You’re making me think bad thoughts.”

“See? Your mother was a smart woman. Mine said the same thing about men.”

Jenny walked to the cabinets, and flipped a switch on the wall. Suddenly, the surgical lamp’s blinding white light illuminated Henry’s bed.

“Turn that goddamn thing off!” Henry whispered loudly. “Are you nuts?”

He squinted, and saw her rummaging through the cabinets. She returned to his bed, and laid a folded towel between his legs.

Jenny then slid her gown off and stood before him wearing nothing but a pair of latex gloves.

“What is this?” Henry asked, “Your idea of safe sex?”

She held them up and giggled. “Well, they always say you should wear rubbers to be safe, you know.”

Jenny opened the towel, and tore off a strip of duct tape, placing it over Henry’s mouth.

“I don’t want you screaming out in ecstasy,” she said, removing his hospital gown with surgical scissors.

She kissed his chest and belly, and Henry caught a glint in the light. His eyes bulged, and he gave several muffled, horrified screams.

“I just love feeling a man’s inner warmth,” Jenny said, and slowly lowered the scalpel to his chest.

Henry felt the incision’s stinging burn as she sliced him open sternum to pubic bone. He lost consciousness as a blanket of warm crimson sunk into the sheets. Jenny buried her face in his chest cavity, moaning softly and wallowing in his organs’ steamy warmth.

After the night nurses discovered Henry’s mutilated corpse, they nodded knowingly. An orderly wheeled him into a service elevator and slid him in the basement’s incinerator while a special housekeeping crew cleaned and sanitized the room.

The staff placed Crazy Jenny in her padded, windowless room. She was once again stripped of her privileges to roam the Psychiatric ward unsupervised, until the arrival of another special admission.