Poltergeist in a Rented Apartment in Southwest Moscow

Well, anyway, here's how it went down.

In 2020 I left the Urals, came back to my native parts, and decided I'd finally move to the capital (I was born in a small town, but really close to Moscow).

I rented a room from a friend in her apartment, we lived in perfect harmony, a normal apartment in a new building in southwest Moscow.
Even when I was moving in, I jokingly asked "friendname, you don't have any ghosts here, do you?" and she seriously said "No, mom specifically chose an apartment in a new building where nobody had died yet."

So, jokes aside, but two months later some fuckery started happening in the place - namely, the clinking of glass jars rolling on the floor. I was freaking out, but thought maybe the building is built that way, maybe the sound is from something else and just travels through the walls. Anyway, I didn't pay it much mind.

Then things started getting creepier. The classic stuff from these stories began - a feeling of presence and cold. Every time I left my room into the hallway I felt a gaze on my back, a feeling as if someone was around me (from all sides at once, it seemed). I can't see it, but I feel it. Plus, the cold. Like, an actual feeling of coolness on the skin. Creepy, right?
Fuck it, I thought, what am I making up, ghosts, my ass.

The series continued to unfold even more interestingly.
Night, I'm sitting at my computer, the roommate is asleep, just the two of us at home. I hear a distinct knock on my room door and a half-whisper behind the door saying my name. I open the door, and of course there's NOBODY THERE. What the fuck?

I go out, walk to the roommate's room, knock. Silence. I crack the door open - my friend is sleeping like nothing's wrong in her room by the light of the night lamp next to her bed. As I walk back to my room, of course I feel the gaze on my back and the cold (it was the height of summer and the weather was around 30-something degrees).

I should mention that the THING would appear and be active for 2-3 days, either whispering my name behind the door, or rolling jars, then it could vanish for a couple of days.

But then an even more fucked-up thing happens:

Night. Again glass jars rolling in the hallway. Again the feeling of a gaze on my back. I'm completely alone at home, the roommate went to the dacha to her mom's.
Scary as fuck. And I also need to piss.
I confidently stride to the toilet to the sound of jars and the gaze on my back, saying out loud "I don't give a fuck about you, you fucking ghost." I flip the light switch in the hallway so I don't completely lose my shit... and... the lightbulb EXPLODES, fuck. The whole place plunges into darkness again. I run to my room and don't piss until morning.

A bit later, now my buddy moved in - anonname from a small Crimean town. Good guy, an artist, we became friends. And in the room he rented (there were three of us in three rooms) there was consistently a feeling of presence and cold, but the creepiest thing was that once, in the middle of night terrors, he had a panic attack, and the icon standing on the nightstand next to his bed flew off it a meter forward, shattering the glass of the frame it was in into a million fucking glass shards.

After the panic attack, all that shit stopped.

And also the friend (who's also the owner of the place) said that her dad died a year ago and now she and her mom are trying to sue for the inheritance from his second wife, some young chick who married a rich old man to grab the money after his death.

So either the dad's spirit was raging, or I seriously lost my mind, but after that nothing paranormal ever happened to me again.