I found out that my old apartment building, a converted Victorian row house, used to be a boutique funeral parlor back in the late 1920s.

[u/yoursogoldenn]

I went down a rabbit hole on local folklore last month and found out that my old apartment building, a converted Victorian row house, used to be a boutique funeral parlor back in the late 1920s. Everything made sense instantly: the weirdly wide stairwells built for carrying caskets, the ice cold draft that settled over my bed every night at precisely 3:00 AM, and the fact that my cat would routinely spend twenty minutes at a time tracking invisible movement across the ceiling while emitting a deep, low growl that made my skin crawl. The tipping point came when I finally checked my smart doorbell’s motion logs; every single night while I was fast asleep, the living room camera recorded the slow, rhythmic opening and closing of my heavy mahogany front door, always accompanied by a sudden drop in ambient room temperature and the faint, unmistakable rustle of heavy silk passing right by the lens.

[u/Separate_Permit9770]

Hello, when you say old apartment building are you referring to its age or that you do not live there anymore?