Someone told me a story!

So, this is my story of visiting Sandhill. It's an old abandoned village on the outskirts of Taunton. It's supposedly haunted but no one really knows.
A few of my friends and I decided to visit it one Friday night mainly because we were bored. We went by car with 5 of us crammed in. There's a turning off the main road to get to the village, it's pretty decrepit and overgrown by thistles, nettles, and brambles but our car just pushed on through the pathway riddled with potholes. 10 minutes went by and we still hadn't arrived. An opening in the path revealed a small area big enough to park, but there was already a car there, quite old, but it looked like it was still in use. A rusted red, Nissan Micra. We decided not to park there and continue up the path. The air was hazed with mist, even on full beam we could only see a few metres in front of us. But with determination, we finally arrived. An even bigger opening revealed a large run down farmhouse. Windows shattered, cobblestone crumbled in piles on the floor, wooden framework rotted, bent.
We decided to explore this house first. It was large, two stories high and surrounded by barbed wire. A complex method had to be done to cross the wire without cutting ourselves. So one of my friends held it down while the rest of us eased over it precariously. When we were all over, we looked around in the fog to discover the back garden of the house. It was divided by a small weathered wall. There was an overgrown garden teaming with bracken, a collapsed chicken pen reduced to wooden planks, and in the corner was a shed, a large open top one. The door opened with a loud creek but what was behind it was worth it. An old 1967 mustang, obviously beyond repair with rust as it's ill doer, but still pretty cool.
Anyhow, we went back and found the back door entrance of the house. There were large boulders piled up to block off the way in, but there was a small gap you could clamber through at the top.
I was about halfway up when my friend whispered "guys, I think there's someone in that field opposite us"
I had a good vantage point. The fog had cleared and sure enough I could see what I thought to be two silhouettes standing far away watching us, by the hedge.
We continued to stare. More scared by the idea of our assumption coming true and the figures moving. But after about 5 minutes of an intense staring competition, we dismissed them as trees.
But it was moments later that panic was reimbursed into the group. A child's laugh, and the sound of footsteps from around the other side of the house.
One of my boldest friends quickly darted round the corner, only to come back wide eyed saying "there was nothing there"
We all agreed this was making us feel too uneasy and we decided to head back.
Out of nowhere, screaming and heavy footsteps appeared. I turned around to see that those two figures weren't trees. Two fully grown me , blackened by the dark, giving out blood curdling screams and darting towards us.
Panic struck the group. Every man for himself. The barbed wire now seemed like no obsticle. I hurdled over it with menacing speed. Not high enough. My ankle caught a barb and I sprawled across the fence. No time to check the damage. I stood up, but applying pressure made me limp. It was only a short distance to the car. Everyone had made it but me. I dared not look around for fear there were close. Anticlimatically, I made it back to the car and we all caught our breath. Looking back across the field onto the house, the people, and screaming had disappeared.
On a unanimous decision we got the fuck out of there. Passing the potholes, the brambles, the nettles, the car park, but not the car....
However, this the least of our worries. We just wanted to get the fuck out.
Catching our breath we turned onto the main road. Each of us joking about how scared the others were. We were settled again, but not for long. Appearing out of the black behind us, a rusted red, Nissan Micra.
"Shitt, is t that the car that was parked up earlier?"
10 minutes of us taking unusual turning, it was still following us. The driver decided to risk it and pull over in a lay by. It pulled over too.
Before we knew it, three men sprung out of the car and lept upon us, banging the windows and bonnet of our car. Needless to say we locked the doors and wound up our windows.
They finally stopped and looked at us. We still couldn't get a clear view of there faces, it was misty again. And their efforts of clothing made it obvious they didn't want to be reckonised.
In a gruff voice one suddenly spoke "Ahh, we're just kidding lads. We like to scare people who come wandering up Sandhill. We're paid by the government to keep people away. As a sorry why don't you lads join us for a smoke?"
Taking this opportunity we slammed the accelerater and sped off. There was no way we were believing that bullshit. We looked back, they weren't following us. Big relieves and sighs, it was over.