The bookshelf looks normal from a distance, a bunch of books lined up. You pick up a book titled "Playing with fire" and open it to discover it empty. Just blank pages throughout. You pick up another and another, and all the pages are empty.
You decide to go through every single one, as as you do, a singular book catch your eye, more like a journal. It has your name on it. You open it, carefully and to your surprise you see something written in your own handwriting:
If you read this, it is because I was not able to escape.
Be critical of anything you're told. You have to figure out why you're here and how to escape.