Conesville(new ending)

There is a small town in the Catskill mountains called Conesville. my grandparents have a summer home there and we go about seven or eight times a year. I have always loved going there since I was little. all of the neighbors and my relative have told me, my sister, and our cousins stories about a hermit who lives just a short walk away from the house, this is our story about the night we decided to look further into his story.
basically, the story we have been told for as long as we could remember is that he was in WWII. he got a dear john, letter from his fiancé. he came home and killed her and her new boyfriend but he never did time for either of the murders, he just cut himself off from the world. he now lives in a small, rusty shed about five by six and sells old car parts to survive. that is why we thought he was insane.
so one night, similar to this night, when we were having a bonfire we decided to find out more. so Kristin, Theresa, Joe and I took some flashlights, and without telling anyone we went for a walk. we talked about what we would do once we were there. I didn’t ever admit it but I was scared, more scared than I had ever been.
after three or four minutes we could see the old cars, and the shed. we got onto his property and I saw something move inside the shed, I tried to say some thing but the first words came out of the hermits mouth. "What do you want?" he said. none of us answered. suddenly he just disappeared, like he was an apparition. we looked around, we all saw it but we didn’t believe it. again the old man appeared in front of us, inches from my face. this time he screamed and I smealed the stink of all stinks, and felt a disgusting feeling as the vapor from his breath wet my face.” why are you on my property?" from the corner of my eye I saw Joe pick up a two by four slowly off the ground, and Kristin and Theresa start to inch away.
out of no where Joe swung the two by four full force at the back of the old man's head but it goes right through him and hits me in the face. I was on the cold, hard, wet ground. I felt warm blood slowly ooze from my nose, on my mouth, down my chin. the earth was spinning, but I was able to look up and saw the old man trying to strangle Joe, " are you the one, did you steal my fiancé?" he yelled.
I got up carefully, I could see by the look on Joes face he was struggling. I looked around for Kristin or Theresa but they were no where to be found, I was desperate, I yelled at the old man, "he didn’t do anything! we jus went for a walk!" he looked up at me, an evil look on his face. “wait” I said, “ we just wanted to talk” we waited anxiously for an answer. The evil look on his face softened.
“what is it you wanted to talk about?” he asked.
“ well, umm…”
“ I think I know what you had in mind. You want to know what happened after the war.”
“ umm yeah”
“ follow me.”
We went with him and he took us by his house, if you could call it that, and on the way there explained that he would show us exactly what happened on May 28 1947, a little less than a year after he got back from the war. When we got into the house-shed he groped around in a box and he found what he was looking for, an old journal from the war. He opened to a page in the book that was marked with an old sash. He told us to all put our hand on the page. I was suddenly thrust forward, all I saw was colors, I hit the ground hard.
The first thing I did was looked at my surroundings. It looked the same except instead of the shed and old cars there was a beautiful house and plenty of property. It was day and the sun was shining, I saw a bus pull up in front of the property. A young man stepped off the bus with a duffel bag. “that’s me!” exclaimed the hermit excitedly. As if he could read my mind, the hermit answered the very question on my lips. “ they can see us so we cant just barge in, we must be careful.”
We walked onto the property slowly. As we looked around he told us about the letter, and that he was just there to get his things and was planning to go to his parents house after. We snuck in through the back, he remembered no one was there. Immediately there were voices, screaming at each other. Two men and one woman trying to calm them.
The hermit told us to creep up the stairs, the door was open and we could see the two men at each others throats, the hermit was telling the man to let him get his things but he had other plans. The man reached it his pocket and took out a revolver. The hermit with incredible reflexes punched him in the face. He dropped the gun and a beautiful woman with blonde hair and baby blue eyes picked up the gun and tried to shoot the hermit but missed and hit the other man in the back. The hermit desperately picked up a lamp and swung it but missed, as she tuned to avoid the hit she saw us. “book it!” screamed the ghost hermit.
That was the fastest I ever ran in my life. We went out the same way we came in and we heard gun shots. I turned and saw the hermit had stopped at the end of the property and was signaling for us to come back. I realized he couldn’t leave the property. He told us the only way we could get back is to start a fire and jump through. At first we thought it was a crock but it worked.
But there was still one problem, she saw us and followed us back. Since she was from the forty’s and she died in the sixties, she became a ghost on the way through, and on nights like this she travels from campfire to campfire in Conesville, stealing the souls of the innocent people, roasting marsh mellows and eating smores, just like YOU!