Gunther shook his head as the girl walked along with him on hands and knees, listening carefully to the sound of the rain.  "Crawl about like that if you want, but don't be surprised if I put you on a leash."  He jeered, leading her by the most inefficient route possible to his lair in the east wing.  The east wing was very dark, most of the lights having been smashed to pieces.  The nurses swept the corridors as best they could, but broken glass still lurked at the edges of the floor, sitting like barbed wire to scourge the unwary.<br/><br/>He opened the door to his office, a room characterized by intractable bloodstains on the floor and a single bright light from a lamp in the ceiling.  Most of the room was concealed by black curtains, their smell and texture betraying bloodstains hidden by their color.  In the visible portion of the room sat two chairs, a straight backed chair that seemed to have come out of some family dining room, and a chair that had once been a leather recliner.  Holes had been torn into the recliner, and from these holes emerged leather restraints bolted to the superstructure of the thoroughly bloodstained chair.  The floors of the room were an alarmingly clean checkerboard linoleum, standing in stark contrast to the bloodstained chair with straps for wrists, elbows, ankles, knees, two straps for the chest, and an ominous black pouch hanging over the top of the chair and down the back with an articulated metal piece sticking out.<br/><br/>Gunther disappeared behind the curtain and returned with a can of Tuna.  "I would like to start your therapy now, if you don't mind.  If you like, you may take your clothes off, if it would make you more comfortable."  Gunther considered offering to let her strip in a lustful tone, but he suspected that might trigger a postraumatic flashback, which would be bad if she wasn't restrained.  He then wondered whether the girl would understand him even if he did leer at her, considering how little she had responded to having a hand put down her pants.  He checked Dr. Ignatius' notes.  The girl wasn't medicated today.  That might have to change, of course, if she really had something wrong with her.  A wicked smile painted itself on Gunther's face.