There really is nothing in this room, and poking around each corner only confirms it. What were you thinking of finding, a hidden door of some kind? Clearly the outside air is getting to you.
As you head back to the door, something makes you pause to examine the walls more closely. The peeling paint strikes you as odd; nowhere else in the building have you seen such utter disregard for appearances. The hallway, however bare, is carefully painted. These walls speak of recent abuse.
You reach up to touch the wall, then recoil in shock. For on the wall are claw marks larger than your hand, as if some giant cat had sharpened its nails against the hard surface.
You glance around the room, a little anxious, but you’re still alone. Whatever made these marks isn’t here, and for that, you are thankful.
It’s probably best not to wait until it gets back, though.
What else can you do?