 On October 31, 2017, YouTube user, Fonfan47, held his final live stream. P.F., as he preferred to be called, streamed urban exploration content on his now-deleted channel. Although not much was known about him, discussions surrounding him and the final stream have largely been scrubbed from the internet along with any re-uploads of the video. Only a scant few recollections remain, along with a single still image from the last seconds of not only his video and presumably his life. P.F. never found great success or wide appeal online. This was most likely because his style of filming was often a vertical first-person perspective from a camera phone held shakily either in hand or on the end of a selfie stick, as he traversed through derelict asylums or rotting amusement parks. Nevertheless, he had a core audience of around 20 to 30 viewers. For his last live stream, P.F. started the video off by stating he was going to be returning to the now-abandoned apartment complex he claimed to have lived in as a child. The video began at sundown in a sunbaked and cracked parking lot. P.F. took special note of all the vegetation in the lot, as his childhood recollection of the place was an empty place almost devoid of greenery. He stated that he found this fact comfortingly ironic. In that parking lot, viewers got one of the only clues to the potential location of P.F. He stated that he hated the desert and how barren the landscape seemed to him as a child. P.F. then mentioned that the apartment complex, shown to be a large multi-story building with peeling beige paint, was extremely low-rent housing for the time. Some of the few viewers in chat began asking him why he was coming to such a location so close to sunset. He only responded with a laugh. Then he wondered if something he had left behind when he moved, a Tamagotchi, was still there. Stating it was tucked into an overhang in his old bedroom, he moved toward the looming structure. On the walkover, he took a short time to hold an impromptu questions and answers segment, something he would do throughout the live stream. The first question was where he was, to which he made a comment about going home. Eventually, he answers a question about his username and why he had chosen it. He does for my grandson, Francis, who at the time could only say his name as fans and the nickname stuck. He is remembered as saying, this answer would cut short the segment, as P.F. had reached the lobby doors. Upon entering, he showed the viewers the small reception area and the multiple stories of identical doors, all lit in an eerie, almost green light. Third floor, P.F. said as he pointed to the stairs. Used to love running up and down those stairs as a kid. Both mom and the receptionist hated that. He said as he showed the inside of the reception station. No one left to get mad at me now. He said with a light laugh, with that, P.F. made his way up the winding stairs and stopped at the landing. He then leaned against the wall and answered a few more questions before telling the chat a story. I remembered why we moved. This place was cheap, so crime was an unheard of. A few apartments on the floor above us were broken into. Though nothing but food was stolen, my mom made the wise decision to get us out of there. P.F. then angled the camera further up the stairs. I really shouldn't have come here. He said, his voice taking on a tone of worry much unlike his usually upbeat personality. I used to have nightmares about this place for years. Stuff like the person breaking and snatching me up like my mother swore strangers would do, you know? He continued while walking up the stairs at a slow pace. I started urban exploration a few years ago, because I wanted to see what it looked like to see the decrepit remains of places, where people would have strong memories, and imagine what it must feel like for one of them to come back, and see the current state of those places. This however, this just feels wrong. I mean, I'm that person now. I remember people always being somewhere in this place but it's empty, and the air is stagnant instead of anywhere near as cold as they used to keep it. It makes my skin crawl. When he got to the third floor, he scanned the area. The doors were all closed except one on the opposite side of the rectangular hallway. P.F. audibly gasped. No way. He said quietly, and chat seemed to be asking him what was wrong. That one. He said, pointing. That one was where we used to live guys. From here, accounts vary. The only thing anyone could agree on is that shortly afterward, P.F. began walking toward the open door and stopped. Some people claiming to have seen the video say that there was what looked like motion coming from inside the apartment. They are in the minority however, as most people will comment on how P.F. said something about how the furniture had not changed since he left. I'm going to get you guys a better look. P.F. said, that would end up being the last known words spoken by P.F. before what looked like a hand grabbed the camera from the side, and the stream ended immediately. The following is the only surviving image from the livestream that anyone was willing to share. Most people found online that discuss this livestream and its mysterious conclusion will most likely caution you about it because, as mentioned, posts and videos seem to get removed within weeks or even days. Apparently, toward the end of the livestream, P.F. mentioned the name of the apartment complex. The leading theories are that either the current owners have either experienced a rash of vandalism or that they have taken these posts down to avoid having a controversy surrounding a property they were in the process of selling. As such, any identifying information provided in the research of this matter has been intentionally withheld in an attempt to preserve this account. If any portion of this gets removed and you have read this, you will know why.