The smell will bite your senses and leave the most bitter of taste in your mouth. You'll want to leave, but in a room where nothing exist but the four walls that bind you there's an absolute of eternal stagnancy.
Time will pass & you'll remain. The lingering taste of home will follow you around, taunting you in memories of people from your past; people that you cared for. You'll never see them again. The only thing you know is that smell of festering, putrid, cold flesh that is void of life.
Everyone exist outside, maybe just outside of this room but you'll never be humbled with even the sight of another. You'll want death, maybe even yearn and beg for it, but it won't arrive. You'll know every corner of this room better than the entirety of your own mind, the lines that meet and follow every wall in this room, outlining the only object your eyes will grasp again. The walls are practically invisible and void of anything, no chips, no cracks, no specs, nothing but a pale white, and fade into the nothingness of what this room entails. It’s empty of anything and everything all at once, the only things that will ever exist is you and the smell that overwhelms any silver lining of hope you may hold.
Time will persist and you'll remain. The smell will remain. The four walls will haunt you until time cease.