The interior of the house is a gray and dusty ruin, dimly lit by starlight 
and the orange-tinted glow from streetlights on the road out front. Holes in the 
walls, broken bits of furniture scattered around. Water softly drips somewhere. 
The smell of mold and decay. Eliana grunts with obvious distaste. A narrow 
hallway leads to the front door. An open doorway on the left leads into a 
modest-sized room like a living room.