Short Story - The Rogue Wraith

A writing prompt: A rogue wraith and the power of metal

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Wraiths have one purpose. To collect the souls of the beings that come to an end of the physical world. To guide them through the mists of Purgatory to wherever they need to be. Whether that’s heaven or hell. And that’s it. That’s all they do. They don’t have a soul of their own or emotions that control them. They simply exist and do what is expected of them.
But what if one day, for some unknown reason, a wraith didn’t do what it was to suppose to? What if had a way of thinking for itself? Gaining free will? Breaking the shackles of a monotonous state guiding? Well, that’s what I’m here to tell you about.
For on my many travels across the countless realms and ever-expanding worlds contained in the infinite bowl that is the universe. There are rules. And when there is rules, someone or something always breaks them. Always. And wraiths are no exception.
And one in particular took that rule and broke it more than anyone would ever have imagined possible. And it started, like all good things, as an accident.
You see, wraiths don’t have souls of their own, oh no. they are mindless beings who follow orders built into their very DNA. But on this occasion, the DNA went wrong, something was not quite right. And as a result, over several thousand cycles of stars, this DNA grew a soul inside this ghostly creature. Finally waking up to be explored.
The rogue wraith opened its eyes to see the dank, cold dark fogs of Purgatory. Only filled with the shadows of lost souls aimlessly drifting around like lost sheep. But instead of being a good shepherd, the wraith simply left. Tired of living the robotic nature they pursued for countless years. And instead went up to the lands of colour, noise and excitement.
Upon arriving in this strange, forbidden land. The wraith found a passion for something new to them. The power of music, which is weird when you consider wraith don’t have ears. But that power is so strong, a lack of external holes was not going to stop the floating cloak. It was hypnotized by the sounds, the vibrations, and sensations this music created inside itself. And what music did the wraith hear? You might be wondering. Well, it just so happens that when the wraith emerged from the depths below, it found itself in the middle of a mosh pit, at a heavy death metal concert. Go figure.
Now with a love for the language of noise, the wraith found a new purpose in life. It wanted to make music, it wanted what it had found in that mosh pit. It wanted, a guitar. An electrifying, metallic sounding stringed instrument all for itself. The rogue wraith needed a flint to ignite the flame inside itself on a new creative path.
And so, the rogue wraith observed, constructed, and modelled itself the perfect guitar. One that would draw the attention of lightning from the skies. An instrument capable of ripping the souls of mortals using the power of metal. A tool of endless possibilities for the new rogue wraith. But where is it now? What is it upto? Well, that my friends, is a story for another time.