As the first tentacle rose out of the murky brown water of the bay and wrapped itself around the stage of the Jones Beach Amphitheater, Angie DelVecchio was vividly imagining the death of her boyfriend, Alan, by way of strangulation. Her eyes twinkled, both from the nuclear glow of the creature’s throbbing flesh and from her delight in the image of Alan’s windpipe collapsing under her perfectly manicured hands….

Originally published in Roi Fainéant on February 23, 2025.