The Knight's Nemesis

The longer I stared at him, the more sinister he became. His painted, chalky skin seemed to hang off his bones, wrinkling slightly in a scowl pronounced only at his small, black eyes. His lips curled up at the edges, joining two long, red scars on each cheek, in a deranged sneer. His greasy, matted hair was at odds with his crisp, clashing purple and orange suit. He opened his mouth in an almost demonic laugh, one that I felt deep in my bones. He was dressed as a clown, so why did I fear him to be such a lunatic?