There are layers of dust everywhere and cobwebs are grotesquely thick in every corner, just rippling with the huge spiders that crawl across them. You can tell that this is a room that is sorely neglected and unliked by the master of the house.
There are a few books lying on a bookcase that is in a horrid state of disrepair, it leans heavily to one side and has many broken boards jutting off. Careful so as not to injure yourself on any one of these daggers of wood you decide to flip through a few of them. One of them seems to tell a little bit about the owner of the house, with a few old faded pictures, it is labeled as My Existence.