I love Undertaker. This story was born out of my love for him and because I wanted to explore writing different aspects of his personality and mentality. The title of this story comes from the saying "Honest to a Fault". This story was born from the ideas that spun in my head when Undertaker made a comment about his Bizarre Dolls being more beautiful than when they were alive because of "their mouths that cannot clamor noisily or tell lies any longer". (Ps. I'm not writing a disclaimer because the FF site itself declares that each work on this site is a work of fiction.) This story may go up in rating mainly because of gore/violence. Enjoy!

The air was chilly; more-so now that it was nearing the dawn of a new day. The wet cobblestone streets of London were lightly frosted and as she watched a cloud of air appear from her mouth with each puff of breath, she reminded herself to step carefully. She didn't want to fall again (though her wet, throbbing knees and chin had already become numb).

As she walked, she began to hear sounds like murmuring within the buildings around her. It made her a bit curious and her eyes were drawn up to see embellished signs hanging from doorways. Around her there were glass windows large and small (though she couldn't see through them) and she realized that she was in the market area. It seemed some of the store owners were beginning to prepare for the day. It also meant she was losing time to get this done sooner rather than later.

A small sigh sounded with the next puff of air. Then she paused, took a great intake of breath, slowly released it, stood taller, adjusted the weight on her back, and began to move forward. It was best to begin taking to the shadows. At a familiar alley-way she made a turn. Once on the other side she found what she was looking for and made her way towards it.

She could make out dark shapes leaning against a wall. Footsteps falling a little more quickly, the shapes began to form headstones and a coffin. There was nothing fancy or pretty about the décor outside of this shop. There was even a skull above the sign that read "Undertaker". Although, the shape and sturdiness of the door reminded her vaguely of those at the entrance of a church- albeit this door had no color other than black.

Adjusting the weight on her back once more, she shifted to knock on the door with her foot. After waiting a moment there wasn't an answer so she knocked again. This time the door slipped open with a creak. She carefully pushed the door open further with her shoulder and stepped into the dark room lit with a handful of candles.

It was warm in there and she didn't realize how cold her body was until a shiver ran up her spine at the temperature difference. Her eyes adjusted to the low lighting and searched the room for any signs of life. She found coffins of all sizes lying and standing, thick cobwebs glistening in a few niches, shelves of tomes, books and skulls, and a few other knick-knacks that may be related to a mortician's profession.

Suddenly the heavy door slammed shut behind her and low chuckling was heard soon after, echoing throughout the room.

"My, my~! It seems I've ear~ly business today~!"

There was movement at her side and she turned to see long, dark nails and pale fingers peeking out of a standing coffin as the lid began to move. A wide grin greeted her soon enough, teeth gleaming in the low lights.

"Would you like to try one of my handmade coffins, my dear~?"

She didn't react immediately. It seemed that her breath stilled in her lungs for a moment. She had seen glimpses of this man before, had heard the rumors of his strange behavior…but she had searched for him for one reason.

A shuddering breath returned to her and she blinked twice. Her lips and mouth suddenly felt dry so she licked her lips and cleared her throat. His eyes were hidden but as she resolved herself, she stared straight at the spot she knew they would be. She shifted the weight on her back, a stiff package swaddled in stained sheets.

She had searched for him for one reason.

"I love her, so….can you help me bury her?"

She had heard that he was able to dress the dead quite beautifully.

A resounding laughter tore through the quiet London air, just as the first rays of light entered the sky.