The Scare That Backfired (respect The Dead)

I grew up in York county, Virginia, less than a mile from where part of the revolutionary war was fought. The whole area has different stories about them. The older generation in my family is not religious but very superstitious, so they told us stories about people seeing things at different times of day and night. And how some people have vanished without a trace, or something made them resort to drug and alcohol abuse. I love a good story so I always paid attention. I was 19 I think and some of my college classmates had heard different stories from the area and joked about them. So I told them I could prove it, just didn't know how right then. My grandma (then my mom, aunts, uncles and older cousin) used to tell us, (exactly how they word it) " you don't f*** with the dead... At all." One fall night I was bored and the cool air made me want to do something outside. So I got my classmates together and decided to give them a ghost tour. At the time I lived with my uncle (my mom's youngest brother), he was very protective of me. He asked where I was going being it already dark, late and cold; I told him I was going to go scare the shiat out of my classmates. He reminded me of the warnings beat in my head by the olders of the family. I didn't listen, of course, we all met up and got into my jeep. The first stop was my other uncle's grave, I was named after him except for the middle initial. They didn't know that and his middle initial was not on his grave stone. As I walked them back to it there were no street lights at all; told them some BS about how some people don't know they're dead. The only light was my huge flashlight gun looking thing. When we get to it I show them the grave, I shined the light on it and there it was our name (my uncle and mine) and one of them freaks out and runs off into the darkness. We retrieved him, of course, I had a good laugh but I had one more place to show them. These were the actual trenches the colonists fought in during the battle of Yorktown. The olders told us never to go there day or night... I never went there cause my mom would kick my a** if she found out I went, no matter how old I was. We're walking out there, like I said no street lights at all whatsoever, not even moonlight. But I had my handy flashlight gun, but then we noticed 2 large black silhouettes. I assumed they were deer so I pointed the light at them, the light beam (I know sounds like DBZ) went right through. So one of the guys in our group was about to walk over and try to scare them off. It was then I noticed they were on 2 legs and was charging straight at us. I was like f*** this and started booking back to the car. My classmates followed me and the shadows were picking up speed. Even though they were running I guess, their movement made no sound at all. So the jeep is like another few feet away so yelled " if you trip you're f***ed, I'm not coming back for you." I'm a coward I know... The brave usually gets killed in the movies. The shadows were still advancing but thank God we all got in the car together. I was screaming, they were screaming and couldn't hear the beeps that would allow me to start the engine. Finally, some how I got it going and I peeled off. The crazy part was the shadows stopped right there at the road and I had parked on the other side of the road. It was like they were telling us what we were doing was disturbing and disrespectful to them. I know now why the olders tells us these stories, I thought of tell our kids those stories but we live far away from there... I may save them for a dark and stormy night. Word of advice don't take historic sites as a joke.