This is my very first LOTR fanfiction. It takes place in an alternate time when the Ringwraiths get the ring...and decide to use it against Sauron...
The Witch-King approached Frodo, cornering him against an alcove on the tops of Weathertop. He looked around; his fellow Nazgul stood ready and drawn, looking fiercely at the other hobbits-and the recently arrived Aragorn, who continually tried to fight them off.
"Give it to me, Halfling Baggins. I will give gold." The treacherous demon hissed.
"It is not yours, and you will not! You are a betrayer of men and a thief!" Frodo cried out, his tiny-compared to the Nazgul-voice suddenly rising up.
"Hearken to me! Give it willingly or you shall have it taken from you!" The dark-cloaked and suddenly silver-helmed Nazgul screamed.
"I refuse! Go back to the shadow!" Frodo sobbed into his knees.
"...Fool. Refuseth then and go now to your death! Die now! Die!" the ancient relic cried out, spearing Frodo with his sword and watching the blood's shadow sputter out from where he had surely pierced the heart. Frodo's eyes fell into his head as the wound smote him in death and he dropped the golden finger band.
"Ours at last! Now, grovel at our power! We shall not take this thing back to Sauron. It shall be ours. We shall destroy Sauron and bring a united kingdom under darkness with none to rebel! Our guard shall extend across all lands and ever shall we rule. Death falls now." The Witch-King laughed menacingly, placing the ring on his finger and suddenly becoming more powerful.