1937 Building on a Cemetery Site: Basement, Boiler House, and Apparitions

I live, or rather dwell, or maybe even exist, in a Soviet ghetto from the pre-war years (specifically in a ZHILMASSIV, as it was called then, built in 1937). The hell of dwelling there is defined by two things. First, the building was originally built for NKVD officers on the site of a church and the cemetery adjacent to it; rumor has it that gravestones were even used in the foundation - you might think it's a typical horror story, but who knows, considering that in ds2 for example there's the House of Lensovet, where they documented using fucking slabs in the building's frame, proof www.etovidel.net/sights/cit.... or google it yourself). The building has a deep basement of at least 2 levels, fuck knows why, but it turns out it goes into the very GRAVE EARTH, behind the basement walls lie corpses from the time of Tsar Pea, maybe just a few centimeters behind them. And on the upper level of the basement the residents have storage rooms (on the lower one - technical rooms), so you have to go there regularly, experiencing unforgettable sensations every time (more on that below).
Second - the building was built on, rebuilt, fucked-up-built a fuckton of times - as a result inside there's a real SELF-ASSEMBLY, considering that the original layout, by the tradition of those years, was fucked up as fuck your mother. Corridors 40 cm wide in entrances that lead nowhere, the notorious 2-story basement, some apartments rumored to be 2-story, a jumble of blocks and entrances, and so on and so forth. And all of it is soaked in the bloody spirit of the cemetery on which it was all built. Like they demolished the church, the NKVD shot the priests (possibly right on the site of the future building), and then the residents themselves were all shot to hell. As a result the aura is fucking hell. I'm too lazy to describe all the HORRORS, so I'll be brief.
First, the aforementioned basement. 2 levels, a storage room where I keep my bike and all the crap (since the apartment is a one-room the size of a dick, cut off from a former communal apartment in the 90s). I try to go there as rarely as possible, but I have to. The air is damp, black mold and cockroaches everywhere. No light, because the bulb burns out in 1-2 days for unclear reasons, the residents long ago resigned themselves and stopped changing it for nothing), you have to walk with a flashlight. Once I saw a mold spot about the size of a palm, when I shone on it, quickly start moving and fuck off into a crack, I shit myself properly then and fucked off back (I was a bit drunk though, but can you catch such a hallucination from a couple liters of beer? rhetorical question). The cockroaches are completely unafraid of people, sometimes they line up in strange spirals like ant death circles, when they do that - I don't go into the basement, because the air becomes very viscous and starts to press, as if underwater, and barely audibly at the edge of hearing strange music starts playing FUCK KNOWS from where, a cacophony of creaks and rustles. A drunk neighbor once told me he also witnessed such shit. But he's a man not easily fooled, he said fuck it and went on. And he actually needed to go to the LOWER level, to fix some problems with a pipe. So he opens the door there, he says, and there's a little room all splattered with something crimson, and in the corner facing the wall a naked man stands and seems to be crying. The neighbor was stunned, froze for a couple seconds, and the man sloooooowly starts to turn around, so the neighbor, not being a fool, bolted out of there shitting himself. He had to call a plumber, who went into the basement and didn't return. They went down after him with a group of residents, open the door to the lower level and he's lying there all white, leaning against the door, as if he wanted to get out, but it was locked as if it were a prop. The doctors declared "heart attack", but the circumstances are more than murky - considering that behind this door there is NO FUCKING ROOM, but a little ladder and behind it a small corridor with pipes. That's the kind of shit! I never went there myself, but once I heard something scratching from the other side, thankfully after the incident with the plumber they hung a giant barn lock on the door, and the key is kept by the main old lady of the entrance.
Also in the yard there's a BOILER HOUSE, unused since the 80s, but they don't plan to demolish it. Its doors have long been boarded up with iron sheets. Nevertheless, sometimes (and it's always evening\night in autumn\winter) I see light burning inside it, and some silhouettes moving behind the dirty windows. And when you stare at them, they stop and come to the window, press against it as if looking. Thank goodness the boiler house isn't close enough to my windows (and I have the happiness of dwelling on the 1st floor FUCK), so they can't be made out.
And on the small stuff, sometimes someone knocks on the window, but I long ago acquired the skill of covering it with curtains without looking, though sometimes the bastard after that starts knocking harder, I'm afraid one day the old glass won't hold. Right under the plank floor there are rats, cockroaches and that very BASEMENT, in cold weather someone rustles from below, once started knocking, even a board started shaking, in that corner of the room where the icon hangs. The board shook, and the icon fell right there. Since then I put a heavy dresser on that section of floor, and I started having nightmares at night and drinking vodka every evening. I'm 32 now, still boozing to ignore the flashing shadows in the entrance when the light goes out, the fact that the number of doors in the entrance changes (and recently it seems even the number of FLOORS), the fact that from the apartment on the left a TV plays a news program, and if you listen to the announcer's words - he says meaningless gibberish like "cooling temple collapse darkness worms rejoice are you hungry? no you are not hungry YOU ARE HUNGRY hungry to gnaw bones" etc. And the stench of death from there is getting more distinct. Booze doesn't help anymore, recently I got into drugs, and I have nowhere to move from this apartment, I'm an unemployed schizophrenic and live on a 16k pension, all that's left is to wait for death - which, it seems, is already very close...