The horrible, stale smell. Visual confirmation didn’t give him any cause to feel relief. Based on how none of the bodily waste felt warm, he had been in it for a while. A couple hours at least. He would have to burn his khakis after this.
Tentatively, Dante gazed around the room, tried to figure out where he was. It was pretty plain, actually. White walls, with no decorations, pictures or posters. On one end of the room was a plain white door with a golden colored knob. At the other end was a large padded table. Underneath the table was a plain, gray cabinet. Beside the table was a mini-fridge.
All in all, it was pretty bland. Door, padded table, cabinet, mini-fridge. Nothing else. Not even a window. The room itself wasn’t even that big. In fact, it was about the size of your stereotypical examination room at a doctor’s office.