Hey! Welcome back, ready for another archaeologist story? Well, grab a drink, grab a blanket, because this is another spooky one.

For this particular project, I was sent abroad with three of my fellow archaeology graduates to a monastery in the middle of a forest, miles away from any form of civilisation.

We were tasked with assessing the monasteries entire history through all methods of archaeology we had learned over the years, and at the end of the month, we had to present a plan on how this monastery could be repurposed in a way that fitted with the history.

It was by far the most challenging project we had ever gotten as students, but also the most fun because if our plan was good enough, there was a chance it would be used by the owner.

On our first day, we explored the surrounding area, that had forest paths for hikers and nature lovers. The monastery itself had fallen in disrepair over the years. The only thing that was still standing in one piece was the monks sleeping quarters and kitchen, which was now being used as a restaurant. The rest of the chapel was either burned down or just bare bones of what the construction once used to be. The lady who owned the land was part of an old noble line, whose family owned the property for centuries, so she greeted us on the first day, gave us as much information as she could about the monastery and professed her wish to bring the land back to its former glory.

We asked her about the burned chapel; she told us it was burned down so many times that people say it's haunted, and the only things left was some silverwork and artefacts, that used to belong in the chapel and were now stored in the basement below the restaurant. After that, she showed us around the monastery.

Now, let me explain to you the layout of this place. The single-lane road that led up the mountain stopped at the church chapel that had only two walls and the arches still standing, the library that was attached to the church was little more than an archway. And at the end, tugged away between the ruins and the forest set the only livable building, plastered in white with a wooden framework; the restaurant, with a wine seller in the basement, and our bedrooms on the second floor.

During the day this place was like something out of a fairytale; with its gothic architecture and luscious green surroundings, the monastery was breathtaking. And many locals came up for a walk and a nice dinner at the restaurant. It was a really pleasant place to be. Very serene and calming.

But at night, when the restaurant's staff left for the day, and it was just the four of us and the monastery, it was nightmarish. Those arches suddenly cast long eerie shadows, that gothic architecture was suddenly very imposing, overshadowing the house we slept in.

I remember my first night walking around there, and just feeling very uneasy, and restless like something wasn't right. The other female archaeologist, Kimberly, convinced me it was probably the idea that we were so far off from civilisation. And perhaps she had a point, I grew up in the city, I'm used to sounds around me, people around me, but this silence was new for me. And since she grew up in a rural area and wasn't bothered one bit by the fact that we were cut off from the world, I chalked it up to that and went to sleep.

The next days, I slowly but surely became used to the solidarity, and even began to enjoy it. We would work during the day, talk to the guests in the restaurant over dinner, and then went for a walk through the forest, or played some card games, until nightfall. Tobias and Marc, the other archaeologists, were a blast to hang around. Together with Kimberly and myself, we had a great time the first two weeks we were there.

It wasn't until the third week that the isolation and lack of Wi-Fi started to get to us. Tobias and Kimberly argued over the smallest things during work, Marc would sometimes just disappear into the forest, and I often found myself hiding somewhere in the ruins, just writing by myself.

We started to run out of work to do as well; we had documented the entire monastery, made a 3-d computer model of it, documented all the artefacts in the basement, made a couple of plans to attract more guests, and we didn't know what else to do.

So, when two cute local girls asked Tobias and Marc to go with them to a party, they jumped at the opportunity. I warned them that we were not supposed to leave, but no amount of common sense could stop these guys' prospect of booze and women. So, around dinner, they went to the party, and despite the extended invitation, Kimberly and I decided to stay home. We drank some wine with the owner when she asked us where we had put the artefacts. Kimberly explained they were in the empty room next to our bedroom, which we had made into a sort of office, but we would bring them back.

"Oh, that okay. I was just wondering," she assured us.

She offered us another bottle of wine for all our hard work, and we accepted. Now, that the boys were gone, we could just have a little girls night, which was made all the better by the wine the owner had given us.

I don't recall what time it was, but somewhere in the middle of the night, I awoke to the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway. With my mind still buzzing from the wine, I unlatched the window, wanting to call out to what I assumed were Tobias and Marc.

But the three men that stepped out of the car weren't our friends at all. They were much bulkier and dressed in black. I just stood there frozen in place, for a moment, before I bolted to Kimberly's bed, shaking her. "Kimmi wake up! There are some strange men here."

She hit my arms away from her and grumbled, "It's just the guys. Go back to sleep."

Before I could even say anything else, the iron latches from the front door rattled, by a loud bang. Kimberly was wide awake now and staring at me mortified.

Without exchanging a word, we snuck from our room to the make-shift office next door and grabbed whatever we could use as a weapon. Luckily for us, basically all archaeological gear can double as a weapon, so with two shovels (which we hadn't used up til this point), a knife and a trowel in hand we snuck down the hallway.

At the end of the hall, we came passed Tobias' and Marc's room, both of them sprawled out on their bed, still dressed in the clothes in which they had left. Kimberly and I snuck in and shook them both awake as hard as we could. They struggled and complained until another much louder bang shook the walls.

"What the hell was that?" Tobias whispered.

"There are some robbers here," Kimberly answered.

"Here? But there's nothing of value here." The moment Tobias said it, we all realised the same thing. The silverwork, the medieval silverwork. They were inlaid with amethysts and mother of pearl.

Not the most valuable objects in the world, but they could still be sold for a couple hundred euro's by material value alone.

The next minutes seemed to last hours as we heard the bolt from the front door falling to the floor, followed by the creeks of footsteps on the hardwood floor. They were inside.

We all just stared at each other, unsure of what to do. These guys had come all this way for that silverwork, that very few people knew about, but we didn't know if they were going to look for it in the cellar and if they were even aware of our presence in the house.

All the while we could hear footsteps roam around the restaurant below us, tables being dragged around as if they were looking for something. We figured they were looking for the door to the cellar.

With shaking hands, Marc reached for his phone and began to dial the local equivalent of 911. He handed the phone to Kimberly, taking the shovel from her hand, and Tobias followed suit, taking the shovel from my hands. While Kimberly sat on the bed, waiting for the operator to pick up, Marc, Tobias and I snuck down the stairs. "On the count of three, we run out, Viking style."

For some context, both Marc and Tobias are reenactors at Viking battles. They might not be the most muscular of the bunch, but they are both easily 6 feet tall, with long beards, and they can be very intimidating if you don't know them.

So, on the count of three, these two Viking warrior jumped around the corner, roaring like wild beasts, waving the shovels over their head, and scaring the absolute living daylight out of the intruders. The three men ran out of the front door and book it away in their car, while Tobias and Marc were still running after them. I was still standing at the front door, trying to comprehend what the hell just happened. Not two minutes later Kimberly came running down the stairs with the news that the cops were on their way, which still took almost half an hour, in which we assessed the damage that had been done to the restaurant. Bottles from the bar were either broken or taken; tables were knocked over and damaged, it was an absolute mess.

When the police came, we gave our statements. Which was another challenge all on its own, because the cops couldn't wrap their heads around the fact that two students had chased away three grown men by screaming like Vikings and waving shovels around. It was actually really hard to tell it to the police with a straight face because we all were just so hungover, sleepy and high on adrenaline, that we just started to laugh.

Luckily for us, they found the men very easily, and it turned out that those two girls who had asked Tobias and Marc out, were acquainted with the men. (That hurt their pride more than anything once they found out)

They were supposed to get us all out of the house. But beyond that, I doubt they had any form of plan because they didn't even know where the cellar was, they didn't bother to check if we were away, and they definitely didn't expect to be chased by some Vikings.

Well, lesson learned, don't ever break in, especially not into an archaeologist's house. Our equipment is all dangerous, some of us scream like demon warriors, and we will always protect our artefacts.

- Next time, I'm going to talk about that time I was not allowed on an excavation. Yes, an archaeologist was not allowed on an axcavation, you heard that right.-