Real ghost stories from real people. This is Into the Paranormal with Tony Bruske.

It began like most hauntings do with something easily dismissed. A whisper of breath in a quiet room.

A stereo flickering to life in the middle of the night, a sense more felt than seen that

someone else was there standing just out of view.

Most people would explain it away.

A trick of the mind, a draft, a glitch.

But what happens when these moments repeat?

What if they grow louder, closer, colder?

Tonight's story comes from a listener named Marcus, who shared a chilling series of events that

took place in an old Bronx apartment, a place where every creek of the floorboards seemed to

carry a message, and every shadow hinted at something watching

from the edges.

What began as a temporary stay with his mother turned into a lingering question about reality,

perception, and the thing that touched his arm in the dark.

As you listen, ask yourself, when the lights are off and the city goes quiet, how much of what we feel is real and how much is reaching for us from someplace else?

Let's get to the letter.

They write, Tony, my story happened about four years ago, and I've never really talked about it in full until now.

I had just moved to New York with my girlfriend at the time, Alyssa.

We were both in that strange stage of our 20s, full of plans, but not quite enough money to make them happen.

So when my mom offered to let us stay with her in the Bronx for a while, it felt like the right move.

Her apartment wasn't much,

just a single bedroom in an old building that looked like it hadn't had a renovation since the

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