In 1994, a 22-year-old Parisian mortician covered with occult tattoos confessed to one murder, then went on to describe in nauseating detail the pleasure he derived from robbing graves and eating the flesh of a corpse on the slab. Declared a “nearly psychotic sadist,” Nicolas Claux was dubbed by the tabloids “The Vampire of Paris.”
Now a world-renowned artist, this is his favorite self-portrait:
The Ultimate Vampire
Published by Feral House Books in 2003
in True Vampires by Sondra London
Released to the Web in 2121
A true vampire is not a role-playing fantasist; he is a bloodthirsty predator who feeds on the vital essence of his own kind. All who cross that bloody line are true vampires, yet retired satanic slayer Nicolas Claux has emerged to carry the flag of this criminal paradigm; he is the ultimate vampire of our times. In interviews with the worldwide press, he has made some of the most shocking and sobering social commentaries in print anywhere, and in his “Vampire Manifesto,” published in Apocalypse Culture II, he proudly proclaims his grim ethic:
I am aware and proud of my heritage as a superpredator. I am aware and proud of the Neanderthal DNA in my veins. I am aware and proud of my place in the ecosystem. I do not believe that the things I did were wrong or “evil“…. My task, our task, is to regulate the human race. We have the same purpose as the ebola virus. My genetic programming tells me to hunt, kill, and eat human cattle. Society cannot “rehabilitate” me, because I am genetically different from your average human insect. I am Danger. I am the Enemy. You can lock me up in a cage. But others will come and restore the balance of nature. Humanity is doomed.
The Parisian mortician was 22 years old in the summer of 1994, when he was arrested for a series of five shootings. He was covered with occult tattoos, including the words “Serial Killer” spelled out in English along the back of both arms, and "Predator" across his abdomen.
His apartment was located near the Moulin Rouge cabaret, in the Pigalle quarter of Paris, and with the streets full of sex-shops, prostitutes, junkies, and tourists, his lifestyle blended right in.
The apartment was searched upon his arrest, and its décor was considered by the Court to be highly vampiric. Posters on every wall displayed violent imagery from movies like Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Ilsa She Wolf SS. One called Anthropophagus, depicting a man eating his own bowels, shocked the detectives, and became an eloquent exhibit in court.
Scattered everywhere were over 400 horror videotapes and shockumentaries with titles like Human Guinea Pig, True Gore, Erotic, Bizarre, Slave Sex, Pain, Death Scenes, Faces of Death, Snuff, The Zodiac, Death Files, and Nekromantik, while a King James Bible full of bullet holes was nailed to one shotgun-spangled wall.
The refrigerator was stocked with bags of fresh human blood, and standing beside the phone was an urn covered with dried blood. Stolen from a Gothic cemetery, it contained the ashes of a virgin who had died young over a hundred years ago.
Describing himself as a satanic necrophile, Claux promptly confessed to skulking through the Gothic cemeteries of Paris, unearthing coffins and stabbing corpses. His shockingly explicit confessions included details of one murder. He went on to describe in revolting detail the pleasure he derived from eating the flesh of a corpse on the slab.
From his confessions:
I woke up one day, feeling this sinister urge to dig a corpse and mutilate it. I gathered a small crowbar, a pair of pliers, a screwdriver, black candles and a pair of surgical gloves in a backpack. Then I took the subway to the Trocadero station. It was nearly noon. The gates of the Passy cemetery were wide open, but nobody was inside. The undertakers were out for lunch.
Passy is a small Gothic graveyard, with plenty of huge mausoleums build during the 19th century. It is located right between two large avenues, so it is impossible to climb inside at night. But anyway, nobody could ever imagine that there was someone robbing graves at noon.
I had this special grave in mind. It was a small mausoleum, the burial site of a family of Russian immigrants from the 1917 revolution. I had already pried open the iron door a few days ago, and I had closed it so it would seem that nobody had ever touched it. All I had to do was just to kick it open. That’s how I broke into the funeral chapel. At this point, my mind was in total chaos. I had flashes of death in my head. I took a deep breath, and I climbed down the steps leading to the crypt.
It was a rather small one, with damp walls, buried deep inside the cemetery ground. There was no other source of light than the candles I had brought. To begin, for more than a hour, I removed one of the heavy coffins from its stone casing. It was specially hard not to let the coffin fall all of sudden to the ground, but somehow I managed to slowly lay it down without too much noise. However, one edge of the coffin scratched my lower leg when it touched the ground. But it didn’t stop me at all.
Nico Claux at gravesite (photo by Vasily Konstantin)
I examined the casket for a while. It was solid oak wood sealed with big screws. It look like brand new, so I expected to find a recently deceased corpse. First, I unscrewed the coffin, which took me less than 10 minutes. Then I pried it open with the crowbar, since it was also nailed shut. Once opened, a horrible stench of putrefaction came out of the box. It also smelled like thanatyl, the product embalmers use on corpse in order to delay the process of decay.
Then I saw the body inside. It was a half rotten old woman, shrouded in a white sheet, covered with brown stains. Her face seemed like smeared with oil, but it was simply the death fluids oozing from her skin. The stench was so intense that I nearly fainted. I tried to lift one side of the sheet, but it was glued to the skin. The teeth were protruding from the mouth, but the eyes were gone.
I stared into the empty eye sockets, and all of a sudden something broke into my mind. I felt like falling into a whirlwind. That’s when I picked up the screwdriver. The corpse inside the coffin started to move slightly, like it had guessed what would happen next. So I began to stab the belly, the ribs area and the shoulders. I stabbed her at last 50 times. I really can’t remember. All I can remember was that I woke up with my forearms covered with corpse slime.
As the State’s forensic psychiatrist declared Claux a “nearly psychotic sadist,” the tabloid press hastened to dub him “The Vampire of Paris,” harkening back to Sergeant Bertrand, the notorious French necrophile who was caught robbing Parisian graves in 1841.
Without sufficient evidence to place Claux at the other scenes of the apparently related shootings, in May of 1997 he was convicted of one count of premeditated murder and six counts of grave robbery. He was sentenced to twelve years of prison.
While the homicidal necrosadist was imprisoned in Poissy, I was introduced to him via correspondence in 1999, and despite his fearsome mystique, I found him charming and cooperative in answering my questions. After our first phone conversation, a jolly ménage a trois with his sidekick Igor Mortiis, he wrote: “I hope you understood at least half of what I said, because of my outrageous French accent and it was the first time I had an actual conversation in English since 1994! So it’s hard to actually verbalize thoughts and words in a foreign language… Damn, I can’t even properly maintain a decent conversation in French anymore, so trying to speak English was a true ordeal. Ha ha!”
Nico Claux displays a high intelligence, and despite his self-deprecating disclaimers, he is articulate with a good command of English. Getting down to business, he makes no attempt to avoid probing questions about his activities of a homicidal, vampiric, necrophilic, or necromantic nature.
Author, Artist, Entrepreneur Nico Claux (2021)
You wonder why somebody like me with a decent childhood would develop into someone who is accused today of murder, grave robbery and cannibalism. The answer is: because I liked it! It was fun. Nobody forced me into doing it.
Nothing is more boring than speaking of one’s family and childhood. I don’t believe that parenting provides a major role in forming the personality of a child. Maybe it does in extreme cases like child abuse or the death of a relative, but when nothing special happens, then the personality develops into something completely unique. Nothing traumatic or exceptional happened to me when I was a kid that could explain who I am today. Nothing. I was just born that way.
This whole thing is not about social Darwinism, behaviorism or kindergarten psychology. It’s about Evil. Period. I am fully responsible for my choices, and if I chose this way of life, it’s because it excited me. I’ve always been into this, and as I grow older, my obsession with evil and darkness only becomes stronger. I am the essence of evil.
When I see people, I see complete aliens. I cannot understand their craving for social success, family, and love. I do not have the same primal needs. My needs are: dismemberment, post mortem sex, bloodlust and stalking prey. Sex and violence.
Social skills are okay if I want to pick up a girl in a bar and bring her home. Period. I control my needs. If I need to wear a mask of sanity in a given situation, I do it. But the needs are always there, lying in wait.
Richard Ramirez Portrait by Nico Claux
Most convicted killers are rather reticent about discussing their crimes. Often, the truth is not in them, and even when it is, they’re not about to give it up. More often, they are unable or unwilling to confront or reveal the baleful reality that put them behind bars. Not this vampire. Although he relishes his own necrophilia and phlebophilia, strangely enough, when it comes to the ultimate crime, he recites a tale of murder most calculated:
Thierry Bissonier was shot on October 3, 1994, inside his apartment. He was shot five times in the head, execution style, and one time in the back, with a .22 caliber handgun. The first shot went through his right eyeball, into the brain. The other bullets crushed against the skull. The last bullet entered the lung and pierced the heart. Then, after fifteen minutes of a slow dying process, I put an end to his misery by crushing his head with a cement flower container. Then I inserted a pencil inside one of the bullet holes to see how deep the bullet had entered into the skull.
The guy was contacted one hour before on the Minitel (a kind of primitive internet network in France). I was seeking a gay victim, so I could test the effectiveness of .22 bullets on human targets. I choose this M.O. because survivors never report to the police when they’re shot during what they thought would be a gay encounter. They’re too ashamed of what happened. And it was like a “practice” game for me, not the real thing yet, because I just shot ‘em and left ‘em lying on the carpet. Later on I intended to repeat the same M.O. on female targets. But then I would not have only shot them.
I did not commit any “vampire“ stuff on the people I shot. I don’t like men, and I didn’t want to get AIDS. It was just target practice. I did not drink their blood. There was no intimacy before, during or after the act. It was just a matter of knocking on the door, stepping inside, pulling out the gun and shooting, then sitting down and watching the death show.
Those shootings took place in a one-month period, ending October 3, 1994. All shootings involved queers shot inside their apartment, house ransacked, no motive, no fingerprints, same M.O. (people shot standing next to the main door), and all were contacted via Minitel. The files were apparently closed on these cases. This year is mentioned in The Guinness Book of World Records as being the year when there were the most unsolved cases of this nature in Paris.
Although Claux himself draws no connection between the murders and his interest in blood-drinking and the occult, both are important elements to his lifestyle and beliefs. Some insight into the different aspects of his ghoulish behavior may be obtained from his own analysis.
On August 8, 1999, he wrote from prison in Poissy:
I have drunk blood, but it was blood stolen from the hospital’s bank (no plasma in it). I believe that this specific diet helped me gain more muscle weight, especially when accompanied by a source of human protein.
I did the grave robberies as part of magic rituals (necromancia) and sexual thrills. When I walked the alleys of Real LaChaise Cemetery, I often visualized Sergeant Bertrand prowling at night in search of dead flesh. Sometimes I felt like his reincarnation.
The flesh-eating part was more of a hunger. I had a fantasy of doing it since I was a kid. Each time I ate animal meat, I fantasized it was human. It excited me. So when I had the opportunity of doing it, I did not hesitate.
The blood plus powdered protein was also a sexual thing. I had this blood drinking fantasy since childhood as well, but I also believe it helped me grow muscles. I used to do it before working out (I had a workout bench and barbells at my place). The blood I consumed was liquid/refrigerated blood (without plasma). I was more attracted by warm blood.
I don’t change into a bat, but I do change into a wolf, or a raven. I’m Aries with Capricorn rising. Mars meets Saturn. Violence and loneliness.
I’m really into what Gothic kids like to practice. I have tried it on a few occasions and boy, it was good! I’m looking for a vampire bride with whom I would share my blood. When I worked in those hospitals I met some girls who were familiar with that practice. They used syringes. You would be surprised to know that it actually is a common practice among nurses.
When I was younger, I was deeply into vampire mysticism. I studied mediæval grimoires like the Book of Abramelin. This book describes a necromancy ritual that’s supposed to summon the spirits of the dead. I performed this ritual during several grave robberies, and some things happened that proved that it worked.
The temperature went cold and I felt a cold hand squeezing my heart, and on two occasions, the bodies moved under the shroud. This is not a joke, this is real. It really happened down there. These were not sensory hallucinations and there was no scientific explanation to it. It just happened. It’s the power of Abramelin.
Vlad Tepes the Impaler Portrait by Nico Claux
Vlad Tepes belonged to the Order of the Dragon, whose leader, Sigismund, used the Abramelin book to resurrect Barbara de Silly.
I strongly believe in the power of sigils. This sigil was used in the Abramelin rituals. It must be written with blood on parchment. The parchment must be laid on the chest of the body of the Undead. This kind of ritual is called Goetia. (Invocation of Demons, Lesser Keys of Solomon, Red Dragon, etc.) It is also used on blood pacts.
When I made my pre-trial blood pact I carved this sigil into my left arm with a razor blade. I did this blood pact the night before trial, Walpurgisnacht, the first of May, 1997. This is the signature of Lucifuge Rofocale, master of satanic pacts. I am certain that it helped me have a fair trial. It did protect me from my enemies. I still have the scars on my arm.
The Abramelin sigil was used during grave robberies. I wrote it on the crypt‘s wall or on the coffin‘s lid with chalk. It’s power helped me invoke the shadow that never sleeps, the Lord of the Eastern Mountain, Vlad Tepes. The spirit of Vlad Tepes entered the bodies I unearthed and made them move.
Sigil for Abramelin inscribed by Nico Claux
When I am released, I will have this sigil tattooed on my left breast, and this will grant my soul the power to reach the astral plane when I die. I have already succeeded to achieve journeys in the astral plane when I was a child. I lost this power during my teenage years.
I’ve read several books on astral projection, but this practice demands a great deal of meditation and breath control. Only somebody well trained in yoga can achieve control over his astral body. Sigils are powerful gates to the astral plane.
What a disturbing sensation it was, then, to receive in the mail a blood pact that Nico had sworn to Satan. The darkened paper is literally soaked with the blood of this modern vampire, with a full bloody handprint over the beautifully-inscribed oath made out to “veritable Seigneur, Satan, Prince des tenebres.”
Blood Oath Sworn to Satan by Nico Claux
Igor writes in a cheery cover letter that the oath was sworn during the solar eclipse over Paris on August 11, 1999, “so it’s full of ‘evil‘ powers!” Indeed. Holding this chilling artifact in one’s hand, there is a strong sense that it is full not only of French vampire blood and satanic sigils, but of something else. The French might call it je ne sais quoi, but in English we just call it evil.
While Claux was incarcerated, his lifelong interest in the infamous killers known the world over developed into a unique pastime. He spent years writing to them and painting their portraits. I asked him why.
I don’t consider myself a member of mankind. I belong to a worldwide brotherhood of people who decided to make a career in mass destruction. People like Báthory, Kurten, Bundy, Ramirez, Schaefer.
Ted Bundy portrait by Nico Claux
The shootings could be viewed as a way of becoming a member of this brotherhood. I respect these people. I’ve always been interested in multiple murder, and I collected true crime books, even trading cards! Then, when I was identified as part of this brotherhood, I started to make mail contact with the other members. Over the past few years I have corresponded with 15 convicted serial killers. Some of them are plain boring individuals who are ashamed of who they are. But others are proud members of this brotherhood. We have media coverage, groupies, fan mail… It’s like being a rock star. But at the same time, it’s much, much more than that. People have told me about the mystical side of it. We’re like an urban legend came true. Real-life Jasons.
Lots of killers blame their violence on their youth, etc. but some of the serial killers I’ve corresponded with told me that all they said to the press and justice system was bullshit, and that they were born that way. David Gore says it. Natasha Cornett says it. Lots of them say it.
Natasha Cornett portrait by Nico Claux
Of course there are exceptions like Manson, Lucas and Kemper. But take Bundy. Honestly, now, how many people were raised by their grandparents and rejected by their girlfriend in college? Many. How many of them bashed the brains out of a girl and had sex with her dying body, more than thirty times? Only Bundy. He was born that way. There’s nothing more to understand. Some people are born without a leg or an arm. And some people are born without a conscience. I know it’s difficult to realize, but it happens. Some people just don’t give a fuck about human rights. You know, humanity is one big herd of sheep. 10% are born leaders, 10% are born rebels. Sometimes, the sheep who was born a rebel has also wolf DNA in his veins. And that makes a lethal cocktail.
As a bit of insider shop-talk, Claux updated me on the still-undead baleful influence of my murdered co-author, the literary serial killer Gerard John Schaefer.
GJ Schaefer Portrait by Nico Claux
You will be certainly interested to hear that a guy was recently judged here for the murder of a close friend, and as a defense strategy, he said that he had seen this documentary showing Schaefer‘s interview the previous night, and he claimed that he had seen the same look in his friend’s eyes as Schaefer’s! So even after his death, Schaefer is responsible for a first degree murder! Ah!
Contemplating his new media-star status, he admitted to some uncertainty about what life might hold for him outside prison. “Honestly, I don’t know how all this will evolve when I am released. I mean, it will be the first time ever that a member of this brotherhood will meet and hang out with his fans, Ah-hah!” One could almost hear the Gallic shrug as he pondered the sensation. “I wonder what will be their reactions? We’ll see.”
I wondered what would change for him and what would remain the same. “One thing I have now that I didn’t have when I was out there: art. Maybe it will change my life after prison. Maybe I will focus on paintings, instead of doing what I used to do before. Or maybe not.”
As he continued to ruminate on his career objectives, it became clear some things would never change. “I still want to get another job in a mortuary. I cannot imagine myself doing another job. So I will apply for jobs in mortuaries, funeral homes, undertakers, whatever. I’m addicted to death. I need to feel it, smell it, touch it.”
And so the death addict looked forward to spending his off-hours visiting his new pen pals around the world, and hoped to distinguish himself in the arts, emulating his role model – the courtly, refined Japanese cannibal. “In terms of post-prison career, Issei Sagawa is who I’d like to equal. He’s a food critic, a TV star, and a porn movie director.”
Nico Claux adding one of Issei Sagawa's hairs to the portrait
he is painting of the cannibal killer on a personalized Ouija Board
I never went to art school. I first started to draw and paint in 1996. People who had heard of my case wrote to me asking me if I did any art. So, I realized it was a good way to get free CD’s and true crime books. Then after awhile, I realized that I really enjoyed to paint and draw things that I liked. I began to read art manuals to improve my techniques. It became a real pleasure, and people seem to like my paintings. So, I started to paint on a regular basis. I read lots of books on classical paintings. I discovered that life is about discovering the aesthetics that surround us.
I discovered that death is the ultimate aesthetic pleasure. The act of dying is the most extreme aesthetic experience – the growls of a man gasping for air make a sweet music. The way a body squirms on the floor is like a choreography. The way they bleed, and the patterns the blood paints on their clothing, it’s art. Life is about art. I don’t feel like a murderer. I feel like an artist – an aesthete.
My life is a quest for aesthetism. I love art, beauty, perfection. I hate the ugliness of modern society: cars, pollution, television. Painting is how I express my inner torment, my turmoil.
Unfortunately, here, I cannot paint all the things I would like to. There’s one thing I’d like to paint: corpses on the slab. I love their colors, the post mortem lividities, the colors of a decaying flesh, gradations of gray, purple, blue, and green. It’s an amazing chromatic palette. Nothing matches the beauty of dead skin. I’d also like to bring my easel in Gothic graveyards and paint all day long. Here, I mostly paint portraits of serial killers or fantasy art, like Conan the Barbarian.
Nico Claux in prison showing a few early paintings
On this picture you can see Andrei Chikatilo, Nikolai “Iron Teeth” Dzhumagalayev, Danny Rolling, J.W. Gacy, Ed Kemper and G.J. Schaefer.
Of all these serial killers, Dzhumagalayev is the one I prefer. He killed, dissected and ate a dozen girls near Moscow. I’m fascinated by his case. I don’t know why. He looks so weird, so primitive. He could play in Texas Chainsaw Massacre. And his nickname, “Iron teeth”! I had a great time painting his portrait. I could visualize him chewing red steaks right before me.
Danny Rolling portrait by Nico Claux
One night, lying on his bunk in his cell, after reading Danny Rolling’s Vampire’s Dream, Nico penned a fantasy he called Mortuarian:
Dismemberment. Post mortem sex. The taste of plasma in my mouth. I’ve got to calm down, open my eyes. I’m in a cell, back to reality. But the hunger is still there.
I watch TV for a while. Pictures of incredible gorgeous girls appear on the screen. Commercials. I study their neck. I can see the veins under their skins. I feel like Tantalus. It slowly increases my hunger.
But time is at hand.
So I close my eyes once again. I have flashes of slasher movies. I’m wearing a hockey mask. I’m hunting humans. Freelance gynecology with a machete. I feel like a head hunter in the Amazonian jungle.
Flashes from the past… mortuary routine.
Nico Claux in the morgue
People are so ugly inside. They have no respect for their own body. Nicotine eats their lungs away. Sugar spreads a disgusting yellow spider web of fat tissues inside their belly. Tumors. Cancers. Inside their carcass the infection breeds every day.
It takes a great deal of abnegation to be a mortuary attendant. There is no social honor in being a surgeon of the dead. Nobody will ever rise from the slab and thank you for having treated his carcass with respect. And their family members are too grief-stricken to even compliment you on the wonderful work you have done to make their beloved ones presentable for the afterlife.
So you end up growing a deep resentment against humanity as a whole. Hypocrites. Losers. Walking rotten carcasses. They stand up straight, stomach in, shoulders back. Proud of their apparent good looks. If only they could see under their skin. See the rot settle inside their organs. Smell the reek of decayed innards. I see the infection inside you. You turn me off.
Women’s bowels are like dead snakes. They lie hidden, slimy and cold, waiting to be released by the incision of the scalpel. Handle them with care. They contain biohazardous material. Put them in the sink. Be careful not to puncture them with the tip of your blade, or feces will ooze out. Underneath lies a big bag of muscles. The uterus. Meat. Fondle it from the inside. Post mortem internal vaginal examination. Feel the rubbery consistency with the tip of your gloved fingers.
Flashes become more violent. I am now masturbating.
Dead cunt on the slab. She’s so cold, and there’s no tightness to her pussy anymore. Now I concentrate on her meat. I’m hungry. There’s some tasty muscles on her rib cage. Nobody will ever notice it if I cut them off. I’ve done it before. Food. Boy, it feels so good to eat this! Refrigerated raw meat. I chew the strips slowly. I play with them with my teeth. I shred them to pieces.
Once again I’ve crossed the threshold. I’m no longer part of the human subrace. I’m a werewolf. I’m a ghoul. Insanity is my kingdom.
Charles Manson Portrait by Nico Claux
I’m sitting in my room, surrounded by black candles and scattered bones. A mobile made with vertebrae is hanging from the ceiling. A jawless skull is sitting on my VCR. I have drenched it with human blood. Sometimes I target shoot it with my .22 caliber.
The wall behind is spangled with bullet holes. Sometimes the bullets remain in the cranial cavity. I pick up the skull and shake it. It makes a jingling sound.
I play a videotape about a samurai who kidnaps a Japanese chick. He drugs her. Then he dissects her with nasty looking rusty knives. The FX are okay.
I watch another tape. Real autopsy footage. I squeeze the handle of my gun, hard. I aim at the skull. BANG!! Is this what they call psychosis?
I’m in a good mood for a graveyard trip. I take my backpack. Rubber gloves, screwdrivers, crowbar, plastic bags. I put a death metal tape in my Walkman. I enter the burial ground. I walk among the tombstones. My territory. It’s noon. The undertakers are out for lunch.
Henry Lee Lucas & Ottis Toole portrait by Nico Claux
I choose an old mausoleum. Smash the window, break and enter. The stairs leading to the crypt are so narrow. I feel the rush of adrenaline inside me. I make my way to a coffin. Using crowbar and screwdrivers, I pull the funeral box to the ground. I’m covered in cold sweat.
Now I break the lid open. The reek of death burns my nose. My brain is on fire. I suffocate. I contemplate the remains. Fractured bones. Locks of dead hair planted on a toothless skull. Decomposed shroud. I open a plastic bag. I pick up my trophies. I bring them home.
Back to my cell. Reality again. Caged. Caged but untamed.
Time is at hand.
Igor Mortiis has been Nico’s friend since they were both teenagers, and he revealed a unique perspective on the infamous fiend.
Like you say, Nico has an evil charisma, and it’s more evident when you meet him. All my friends who crossed his path before he went to jail felt uncomfortable in his presence. They all told me that he has something devilish in the eyes or something. And it was more intense with girls. They were all attracted to him like girls were to Count Dracula. He bewitches them, if I can say that. Nico practices a lot of magic and hypnotism techniques, so in a certain way it gives him this special charisma like a ghoul or magician may have.
I have not been hypnotized by Nico or anything like that, and I don’t believe in what he did. After he got arrested, all his so-called friends left him. They were too shocked by what he did. My girlfriend did not like him either, saying he scared her. I am a survivor of all of this.
I talk to Nico as an old friend. We speak about the movies we like, music – like friends. I respect his beliefs because he’s real through it, and he respects mine. I don’t idolize him, but he’s true and sincere with me because he knows that I don’t judge him. It is now that he really needs a true friend – whatever he did. With me he’s still what he was, a devoted friend. And so am I. I know that if I ever get in trouble he will always be on my side. We are true friends for years now, and it’s not some cadaver who will break this!
To me Nico has not changed too much from the day I met him. He’s still so evil and fun, that’s probably why I like him. He has a great sense of black humor and I have had a lot of fun with him.
We met when we were something like 15 or 16, I can’t remember exactly. My first thought was, “This guy is the Devil!” He was so mean! Then we talked about movies, music – and we became friends. I always knew that one day I would hear that Nico did some bad things. He was crazy, he loved to watch brutal SM movies, and laugh like a maniac when the girls were crying. It was unreal.
Nico has always loved to torture animals. I have a videotape where he tortures to death a living mouse with a scalpel. He was maybe 15 or 16 at that time, and he was laughing like crazy every time the mouse struck back, to the point of trying to eat the scalpel blade. Pure cruelty!
As a kid, he loved to torture animals for fun. He put a little dog into a mixer for fun, put some cats into a microwave to make them explode. Then he bought a little arbalete and began to hunt cats in the cemetery, it was high entertainment for him. Maybe he gets the love of the hunt through this.
Nico Claux as a child
I didn’t know what Nico was doing, but I was not surprised to know that he did it. Since I have known him he always had fantasies about murder, torture, death – he was working at the morgue, because he just wanted to be as close as possible to death. His evil ways are not fun at all, let’s say scary. But he has never bothered me with his fantasies. He kept them to himself.
I hope that Nico will stay out of trouble when he gets out, that’s why I try to promote his art. I hope that through painting he will find a new way to channel his fantasy – and not to exorcise it. That would be a waste of time, you can’t change a wolf into a sheep. But there’s so much to do with your life besides spend it in jail. So that’s why I am here with him. I am trying to save a friend from the evil way.
His parents visit him and try to help him. They were really affected by his crimes and are still under shock. I often go to see them to comfort them. But Nico’s “troubles” might have begun with them. Nico has no feelings for his family, according to what the psychiatrists at the trial said. He doesn’t hate or love them, but just ignores them. He’s “cold as life,” like he says.
The thing that got him into mysticism began when he was a little child. He started talking with his grandfather about the power of spirit because of the books his grandfather owned on magical ceremonies. Then he asked his grandpa to play tennis, but he declined, saying he was too tired. But Nico insisted again and again until his mother (it was her father) told him to let his grandpa alone, because he was too old for this kind of game. But still Nico insisted. Finally the old man told him he would play. As soon as they began the game, the grandpa had a heart attack and died right there in front of him.
Nico loved his grandpa very much, so at a certain level it should have affected him, but he never expressed any sentiment for his death. Then his mother became paranoid, saying it was Nico who killer his grandfather, culpabilising him for her dad’s death because of the tennis game. Then she started having nightmares, waking up at night, screaming that Nico was trying to kill her with his mind. She had been in hospital for a while after that. She believes that Nico has supernatural powers, and she’s still afraid of him now. And so a demon was born!
Untitled Sketch by Nico Claux
In an interview appearing on Igor‘s website, Claux spoke with characteristic frankness, admitting he robbed graves “because I like to hurt people. It’s the most inhuman thing you can do to a family. I like to know that one morning someone from the graveyard‘s office will call them and say, ‘We found the remains of your grandmother impaled on a stick.’ It’s pure cruelty. It’s like you kill them a second time.”
The satanist sneered at those aspiring to identify with him through his belief system. “Most so-called satanists are poseurs, wimps who get beaten by other kids in school, so they pose as satanists to create an image. But then they say, ‘Satanism is not about being evil and stuff, it’s about criticizing society.’ Ah! I personally don’t give a fuck about society. I don’t consider myself as human, so I won’t waste my time criticizing their society. Wolves don’t criticize sheep. They just bleed them to death. I worship the Devil because Satan worship is about digging up corpses, killing people for the thrill of it and spitting on their graves. It’s not about dancing naked in the woods. Real satanists hate everything: yids, niggers, xians, dogs, cats… everything! So fuck the so-called satanists. They are nothing. I only respect grave robbers and killers.”
When asked the worst thing about being in prison, he complained, “No red meat. They only give us boiled meat once in a while. They turned me into a fucking vegetarian.”
Nicolas Claux was released from prison on March 22, 2002, after serving seven years and four months of his 12-year sentence; and after a couple of months of freedom, he gave me this interview:
SONDRA: When our readers last heard from you, you were rattling your chains & snarling, “When parole comes, I will be a brainless Neanderthal with only one thought in mind: ‘I WANT MEAT!’” So now we are waiting to find out, what really did happen when you were released?
NICO: My mother is such a bad cook that I did not expect her to cook me any special meal when I got out. So I just went to a butcher and bought minced steak, and I did myself a nice steak Tartare. The rush of adrenaline was beyond words. Later on this year I started to learn cooking. I have learned to use spices and herbs, and different methods of cooking. Those who have tasted my preparations say I am getting very good. I am specially good at meatballs. Maybe one day I will work in a restaurant.
SONDRA: Was it hard to get used to being free again?
NICO: During the first days, I tried to get accustomed to the outside world again, dealing with noise, pollution, mobile phones ringing everywhere, people walking by fast in the streets. At first, it was too much stimulation for my brain. But I adapted to it well, I think. Just the fact of having my own key and a bit of money in my pockets was a taste of freedom. It was like being born again. At the same time, I had to struggle with all the rage that I had built up in jail. And the feeling of being so different, so removed from this outside world.
SONDRA: Where did you live?
NICO: I lived at my parents’ place during the first five months, on the crack side of Paris, then I moved to live with my girlfriend. It was a hard decision, because I had the choice of staying in a familiar environment, with my friends, in my town, in a place where I was well-known, or go to live anonymously to a foreign country, learn a new language and struggle with very little money to survive. But I made the right decision, and it is well worth the sacrifices I have made.
SONDRA: How did prison change you?
NICO: I am smarter, I am stronger, and I am spiritually more aware of the world than I was. Sometimes I feel like Max Cady. Prison made me aware of my weaknesses, and it also gave me the tools to destroy them. I have read philosophy in prison, I’ve read Greek tragedies and anthropology, I learned art, I became physically stronger, I learned to be manipulative and to give people what they expect. I learned to stay quiet and to listen. To be cool and to control my urges. I learned burglary and street life tactics. Before prison, I was totally out of control. I learned discipline in prison. I think that now I am superior to 99% of the general population.
SONDRA: Are you still a vampire?
NICO: Yes I am, but I have won the fight over the beast inside me.
SONDRA: Have your tastes changed?
NICO: I still read the same books, watch the same movies and enjoy the same lifestyle, except that now I have the responsibilities of a family man. So I have drawn boundaries that I will never break. I think I have found the right balance between my cravings and the limits imposed by society. I have learned how to satisfy them without getting into trouble. Murdering people causes too much paperwork anyway.
SONDRA: Do you keep bags of blood in the refrigerator and drink blood?
NICO: There are bags of blood in the freezer, but they are not human. I still enjoy the taste of blood very much, but it is no longer an obsession.
SONDRA: Do you still wish to torture small animals?
SONDRA: Do you have any new tattoos?
NICO: I try to collect new tattoo art on my body, but I have not much money so the process is slower that I would like. My new tattoos are very much fixated on mass murder. I have pictures of dead bodies, flames, guns, things like that.
SONDRA: Tell us about your plans to support yourself.
NICO: I am ready to take any job. I have learned filming and editing on a professional level, and I am also good at putting up websites. Of course, I am skilled at art and design. I try to make a living by selling paintings online, but I don’t make enough to allow me to travel right now.
SONDRA: Have you thought about starting your own business?
NICO: Yes, I am looking for a sponsor to finance a Cannibal Café. I would be the chef.
Sondra London portrait by Nico Claux
SONDRA: How have you found the World Wide Web?
NICO: I have a website. It is not about my case, it is only about the paintings I have for sale. I use it as a tool to help me sell my artwork on a worldwide level. I also include some of my correspondence and exclusive interviews with other vampire killers.
SONDRA: How have you been received at the “vampire“ sites?
NICO: I have received emails from people who claim to be “High Priest of Vampire Cults,” “Real Life Vampires” and so on. Usually they say the same line: “You give vampires a bad name.” How ironic! We now live in a society where vampirism is considered as glamorous, because of all these silly TV shows. They have completely put aside the organic essence of vampirism, which is the craving for warm plasma. They think vampires are people who wear Armani long coats and ask to use needles to drink blood. Of course I understand that I do not fit this fantasy image. But I really do not care about that. Vampires will be remembered in history as real life monsters who kill and drink and eat their victims like ordinary people feed on beef. Wearing fake fangs won’t make you a true vampire. Only the intimate experience of eating another being’s soul might give you this status.
SONDRA: Have any cults tried to recruit you?
NICO: Mostly people who say they are the “High Priest of The Raven Clan of Abaddon“ or something even sillier. Right after I got out of prison, I got an instant message from a European woman who suggested I might be “useful to certain people” and that I “would get a big reward.” There are cults who want someone like me to do the dirty deeds.
SONDRA: Yes, I would think so.
NICO: But I’m not interested in obeying orders from people I don’t respect. They are just using satanism for drug dealing and pornography.
SONDRA: Using the mystique to get people involved, but they don’t even believe it themselves.
NICO: Right. The woman who spoke to me said “the most powerful clans are the one that have a perfectly legal cover.” They have lawyers, congressmen, police officers, people in high places. She kept saying that they worked in anonymity. These kind of people try to trick me with promises but I don’t buy it. Once you’re part of the org, you are their tool. That’s why I stay very far from the “scene” in Europe.
SONDRA: Rumor has it that your days of wild rampages are over, that you’ve found love and settled down. True or false?
NICO: Yes, I have found my immortal bride, but we have both decided to keep our private life a secret. So I do not wish to share her identity. However I can tell you that she is a gorgeous, sophisticated and very clever woman. I am very lucky to have her.
SONDRA: Do you still practice ritual blood magic? Have your magical goals, or beliefs, changed?
NICO: Yes I do, but I have learned much from my girlfriend, who is much more gifted and learned in magic than I am. But I have been reading all her books on the left-hand path and trying to understand them in a deep level. We have an altar devoted to our Lord. We both share the same beliefs. We just want to live peacefully, practice our sex and blood magic, and travel a bit to meet our friends.
SONDRA: I understand you get quite a lot of email. Would you mind sharing some with our readers?
NICO: Sure, here’s one that just came in:
Nico Claux, I don’t mean to be offensive, but firstly I’m afraid that your criminal acts don’t classify you as a real vampire. You are an insult to the vampire world – people like you give vampires a bad name. Real vampires DON’T kill people, and they drink their donors (we don’t like to call them victims) blood using safe methods (syringe blood withdrawals, sanitized razor blades etc), not by killing their victims. Secondly, your website may arouse suspicions with the real vampires out there. People will start looking for other vampires, and may come across the real vampire websites, and think they are all the killers that you are. I’m afraid that you’re giving a bad name to the vampire nation. As a real vampire myself and member of a local vampire group, I believe you’re no vampire, just a sick necrophiliac murderer. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that – I wouldn’t mind trying my hand at a murder myself, but have never (and probably never will) do it. I just find it quite insulting you refer to yourself as a “Vampire.” I’m afraid you’ve got that bit wrong. Best regards, and good luck in your future, Arnold
SONDRA: So Arnold criticizes you but he admits he wouldn’t mind trying murder himself! How can you possibly respond to something like that?
NICO: I used to write back to them personally but there got to be so many, I developed this standard form letter. I send it out and then I check off the items when I reply:
Greetings, You have just made a fool of yourself by sending “hate mail” or just plain lame mail to Mr. Nicolas Claux. The only answer you’ll ever get from him is this standard reply, so no need to try to get his attention any further.
 You claim to be a “true vampire.”
Hey kid, wake up! Vampires do not exist. It’s not because you wear fake fangs that you have the right to decide who is a true vampire and who is not. The press called me a vampire. Send your complaints to them.
 You are the high priest of “the mighty knights of Satan,” or some other stupid coven.
There’s nothing I despise more than coven mentality. You claim to be a true believer but you will run your mouth to the cops after one hour of custody. My devotion to My Lord is genuine, I’ve been His Servant for decades, and prison has only strengthened my Faith. I don’t give a fuck what you & your coven think of me. I serve My Lord in better ways than you’ll ever dream of.
 You are a Christian cunt.
Why don’t you send this type of email to Muslim websites? Scared of the consequences?
 You are under 18 and you want to prove to yourself that you are strong by sending threats to an ex-con.
Kid, get laid, you really need it.
 You are a journalist.
No, I don’t want to be on your show, and no, I won’t send you Issei Sagawa’s address.
 You claim to be a serial killer.
Yeah, yeah, yeah… Big deal.
 You want free drawings and artworks.
 You claim revenge for my victim’s family.
They don’t need your help, Superman. They’re still dealing with the shame of a public trial that exposed their son’s homosexuality to the public. They seemed more concerned about this than by the fact that I killed him. Mind your own business and find yourself a real cause, like “Save the whales.”
 You are a groupie.
I have a girlfriend, and I love her to death. You are starting to step on my private life by all this amount of mail. You are making a fool of yourself.
SONDRA: And what message do you have for those who aspire to be a vampire like you?
NICO: The only message I would tell them is, mind your own business and leave me alone. I do not claim anything. They claim to be something. I am a 31-year-old ex-convict who just wants to live happily and have the same lifestyle that I have always had. I do not seek the company of people who claim to be “like-minded,” as I have my own family now. They can claim whatever they want, I just do not care.
The Gospel of Blood is not just shocking and sensational. This unredacted reportage from the furthest reaches of the underworld is at once classically literate and brutally honest, with the author turning an unflinching eye inward to reveal an utterly unique individual: refined yet savage, talented yet dangerous, depraved yet genteel, cold and sadistic, yet charming and compelling. Above all, Nico Claux is authentic. He tells us secrets here that even the most hardened criminal minds would dare not articulate, speaking the unspeakable while revealing the unthinkable, in a torrent of phantasmagorical scenes from his real life.
I stayed up all night reading this first volume, literally unable to put it down, and I anticipate the release of "the rest of the story" once it is translated into English. This book is already a rarity, and is sure to appreciate in value with time. Get it directly from the author while you still can.