Title: What Kind of Fool Am I?

Author: Crazyroninchic

Rating: R for slight language

Disclaimer: I'll let you know the moment I inherit all the rights to Lord of the Rings. I can't already own it, because the movies would be 70 hours long. Each.

Summary: The Witch King reflects after being stabbed…

Feces.

I really should've seen that coming. I mean, for Mordor's sake, the bloody woman was right in front of me! If I were any other Nazgul, I could just say that my hood blocked my vision. Needless to say I was quite glad to get that helmet, for the hood really was bothersome. I probably wouldn't have missed that Halfling's heart on Weathertop. And I probably wouldn't be in this mess, for Lord Sauron would be ruling supreme right now. You know, fire and brimstone and all that. (And I don't really care if that was screamingly irrelevant.) And I would've been right up there with him, because, back me up, what's a giant flaming eyeball without a monster-riding wraith?

But I can't really be blamed. I can't! That little hairy man came out of NOWHERE!

Stop laughing. He caught me off guard. You would think that someone like me would be pretty good at sensing these things, but apparently not. Learn something new everyday.

Ay, I'll never hear the end of this. To think: Me. The Witch King of Angmar. Killed. By a Halfling and Rohirric wench. That is beyond sad, it's just pathetic! I should technically take all the blame, but I'm going to hold Sauron partially responsible, for leaving a gaping hole in my helmet, against what I had requested. I mean, to be perfectly honest, that's just ASKING for it!

I wonder if her daddy knows she is being a bad girl and out fighting with the all the manly men instead of at home playing with dolls and having tea parties…What's that you're saying about Theoden? Who? What does he have to do with this?

Oh yeah! Him.

The one shining moment of this beyond-sucky day. I knocked his horse-loving ass out! Oh, he was her uncle? That could explain a few things…mainly the sword she thrust in my face. Why must she kill for revenge? I miss the good old days, when people killed for fun.

But, damn, I've really got to keep my ego in check! The first time I say 'no man can kill me' I just HAVE to be saying it to a woman, don't I?

The Valar must hate me or something.

Oh wait. I already knew that. I've been on their shit list for some time now. Honestly, you kill a couple thousand people and ally with a dark lord, and suddenly everyone hates you! It doesn't make any sense at all!

If I were more eager to please, I'd actually care. It's occasionally almost tempting to go over to the good side. Mainly so I won't have to listen to Sauron's inane ranting anymore. But then I remember: I hate everyone, have no desire to do anything even remotely close to nice, and being a bad guy, I get to ride a bitchin' fell beast!

Well…used to. Stupid Eowyn! She killed HIM, too! She's just a killing maniac!

No, no…that's me. I forgot. Stuff like that tends to get lost in the jumble of things I have in my void-like mind. I'm good with secrets like that. Nothing gets out. Number Two would argue that nothing gets in, either, but that is a bald-faced lie! A lie, I tell you, a LIE! I am very intelligent, and not in the least bit stubborn. I'm not. Shut up. Stupid Eowyn.

I was a KING, for Morgoth's sake! Granted, I was 'weak' and fell under the power of my ring, but still! She had to screw it up and stab me in the face. Sure, I just killed her uncle and have been terrorizing Middle Earth for ages, but honestly! Why is she so violent?

Since I am evil, and being evil apparently grants you the power to linger (hey, look at the Mary Sues…), I will continue with my rambling. Stop complaining. I told you, I hate everyone, and will torture you in any way possible.

If the other guys could see me now. A shriveled chunk of armor. No, wait, I just imploded. Never mind. This really isn't my day now, is it?

So now I'm a disembodied voice, and I think I'm starting to freak this chick out. Well, she deserves it! I'm bloody glad I broke her arm! Hope she dies. Leave it to me to make a broken bone fatal. I'm just good like that.

Wait. She knows that damn Elessar, doesn't she? Figures. Of course she knows a healer!

Speaking of Elessar, there he is now. With that damn nancing Elf. Have I mentioned I hate Elves? Have I mentioned I hate everybody?

Stupid Elessar. He looks so dumb, releasing the dead from Dimholt Road, and fulfilling their oath.

…

Wait, WHAT?! I was gonna go chill with them in their freaky tomb thingy! We were gonna have fun scaring passerbyers with strategically-placed skulls and ghost hands before killing them and adding their skulls to the collection! Could life get any better than that? For an undead evil wraith, I mean.

Judging by the silence, I'm not reaching out to a lot of undead evil wraithes. Pity. We rock. Seriously.

Geez, everyone is so intent on ruining my fun today. I mean, HONESTLY! Can't an evil wraith catch a break?! Sure, I am scum (or so I'm told), but it's not like I deserved this!

Okay, maybe I did. But that is SO beside the point. Hate everybody.

Woo, I had better wrap this up. My now-dead fell beast is starting to smell. Rotting flesh tends to do that. It's strange, I didn't even know I had a nose…now, right before I die, I discover it. Think of the scents I could've smelled! I could've realized that I really need a bath. I suppose dying saves me the trouble. I only liked water because it could put out fire. Hate fire. Stupid Strider.

Honestly. Me, and all-powerful, evil, fell-beast-riding, sharp-mace-wielding, populace-terrorizing, murdering, Halfling-stabbing, Nazgul-leading, helmet-wearing, Angmar-ruling me! Killed by a girl! A little girl!

What kind of fool am I?