I'm not entirely sure how to start one of these things.

I guess I'll go with a standard All-Of-This-Is-True, What-You-Think-I-Made-It-Up? statement, because - after all - no matter how fictional all of this stuff seems, it's real. For legit. Not trying to be a fiction writer here. This is a seriously dangerous story that might get you killed.

Ha, just kidding. It won't get you killed.

It might challenge your view on reality, the universe, and the stars. It might shock you and force you to reevaluate everything. You might want to complain, demand that one thing be one way or another because what you believe about this or that, or you might just scoff and go, "Wow, Blake. Great fairytale. You're trying to convince people it's real? Ha, good luck." If you're planning on doing that, puh-leeze. I've fought monsters and gods. I think I can face down some hate letters.

Whatever your lamentation is, it will not affect me or the truth in any way, only make it stronger. Like the hydra Percy Jackson fought in Sea of Monsters? It won't go away. You're fighting a futile battle, and the only solution is to find me and personally blow me into slimy bits with a celestial bronze cannon. But it won't get you killed. Unless you come after me with a bronze cannon, in which case I'd have to kill you for self-defense... and unless you're like me. But that's a different topic altogether.

To those of you who are hearing me out… thanks. Really. It means a lot.

If you're here, you're probably a fan of the Percy Jackson series, and I'm assuming you recognized the bit of random knowledge about Sea of Monsters I just threw at you. All history aside, I too am a fan. Rick Riordan's stories are awesome. (Am I a fan of Rick himself? Well… the situation's complicated.) But they didn't become a major figment of my life, like a fact of my existence, until this all happened to me.

So, news flash! Ol' Rick was telling the truth. I, Blake Lampros, am a living representation of that.

Except there was one vital element he left out - this strange celestial force that the Greeks and the Egyptians and… I guess, the Norse? (sorry, I'm not super attuned to the new series)… call the "Mist," that birthed the forces we know as gods (not capital "G" Gods, but lowercase)… well, it made more than just a few. You've probably already guessed that.

Suffice to say, few hundred years ago a native civilization formed in modern-day Mexico. They decided to create the most bizarre and frightening myths this side of the hemisphere, all with one goal in mind: to make Blake Lampros's life as difficult as possible. They believed in these monsters and vengeful gods so powerfully that they even murdered their own to satisfy them, granting this celestiality, this idea, so much power that the Mist eventually decided to make them real. Flesh and bones. Then suddenly all these peoples' beliefs were validated before their eyes. (Thanks a lot, Mist.)

They were called the Aztecs. And they were a pretty effed-up people.

I'll leave it at that. I don't know how many other ancient religions have achieved consciousness, and frankly, it scares me. The Aztecs are crazy and hardcore enough. Seriously - they worshiped some scary stuff, and I've had to come face-to-face with some of the scariest. Who knows what other ancient civilizations might have to offer?

This story is being told is on a fanfiction website because it's unpublishable. I would call up Rick and ask him if I could write a book about it… but… I've kinda burnt that bridge. He won't speak to me after the incident in Tacoma, and it's unlikely he wants an account of this kind floating around. So we'll just keep this low-key. Right? Right.

So I suppose... this is a disclaimer of sorts (I can hear Paul now: "What, a thousand word disclaimer?") that this is not fanfiction. This a way to tell my story without being hunted down by Disney Hyperion. This is a very real account reminiscent of another very real fictional account.

This is fan-NONfiction, and it's a story that needs to be told.

One afternoon I was biking down Pacific Coast Highway with my buddy Paul. And we, inadvertently, entered a whole world of craziness that shook my poor butt out of its quiet bibliophilic hole.

Told by a kid who, by definition, is nothing like the heroes of old, and has a friend who would be, if he wasn't completely psycho.

Yeah. I'm liking this already.