His faded brown wrinkled skin creased into a fake smile. He has masses of wrinkles round his eyes with uncountable frown lines across his forehead.
He walks with a long black walking stick that glistens in the sunlight as he bangs it against the ground. His legs shake and so do his hands as he walks.
He never laughs, on the rare occasion that he does, it’s more of a cackle than a laugh. A terrible cackle, the worst of sounds.
When he speaks, he always has something bad to say. It’s normally, “Don’t come here or I’ll whack you with my stick”. His voice is deep and croaky and scares people away.
His greatest dream would be to lock all children away and get rid of the key. He is a mean, twisted, old man.
He has no fears. He is ruthless and would be happy if the whole world just disappeared…
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