"Well, you see, my dear," The man smiled evilly. You could only guess what kind of expression was hidden under his bangs. "That skull there is a very precious item, yes," You circled around the coffin table in the center of the dark room, studying the infamous Undertaker carefully. You kept a careful hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh. Your black attire covered the holster well.
"And why is it so important?" You questioned. He leaned his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together, placing his chin on his hands. "If you leave it in such plain sight, an infidel may try to take it from you." He grinned his signature cat-toothed smile and spoke softly.
"It just so happens that this very skull belonged to a girl I once loved." He (well, this is assumed) looked away wistfully, as if recalling the good memories he had with this girl. "Emerald, I called her. Died of a disease to the head, poor thing." His smile faded slightly. "She gave me what I loved most. A prime smile