No Dogs Allowed

Dead Wolves Tell No Tails

(ty for reading, you're very appreciated :)) the little star welcomes you with open arms.
i've also never actually watched a movie series that's mentioned here, and so some of it is half-made up on the spot and the other half might be accurate to the original series, let's just go with it :)

(EDITED)(Note to readers: Some chapters ahead may not be in line with the new edits.)

There's a children's riddle called the Key Game that goes: okay, I can play the key game, the key game, the key game. Okay, I can play the key game, can you?

You stand in a circle with one set of keys. One person starts, says, Okay, I can play the key game, can you? Subsequently, they toss it to someone else. Repeat it back wrong, and you can't play.

The objective of the game is pattern recognition, as there's a "key" to playing the game, which is a word said with the sentence I can play the key game. It's more meant for young kids, but people say even adults struggle to understand what the objective of the riddle is. Some never even get it after it ends.

I sat beside my brother, who sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother. My father held the key in his hand, speaking the words and waiting.

I caught on after three tries. "Okay, I can play the key game," I said, grasping the metal until the teeth stung my palm. "Can you?" I tossed it to Elias.

My brother frowned. "I can play the key game," he said.

My father shook his head. "Unfortunately, you cannot."

We were in several rounds, but my brother couldn't notice it for the life of him. My mother watched us, face blank, eyes darting.

"Okay," I said slowly, staring him in his eyes, willing him to understand. It was such a silly riddle. "I can play the key game, can you?"

Finally, his face lit up, and he caught the keys between his palms. "Okay," he said, "I can play the key game. Can you?"

He tossed the key to my father, who snatched it mid-air. He frowned between us. He raised the key, examined its teeth.

Then, in one swipe, sliced them across my brother's face.

He screamed, falling backwards. My mother watched with wide eyes and mouth agape, but she didn't say anything. She simply crawled over and pulled me into her arms, shielding my face from the glinting key in the family room's bloodied air.

"This is a game, Echo," my father snapped, turning dark eyes on me. "The objective is to win. There's only one winner."

"I just wanted to help," I yelled. My mother shushed me, yanked me away back into her arms.

My father bent down. "It's his life or yours," he whispered. "He's another you." My father dropped the key at my feet with a clang. "Who wins?"

I turned my face toward my mother. "I want to go back home," I whispered.

"This is home," my father said. "If you want out, then I suggest you stop worrying about 'helping', and more about winning. Do you think he'd help you?" He glanced down at my brother, who was bent on all fours, the blood dripping from the gash beneath his eye. "He wouldn't have hesitated to let you play until your tongue fell out."

I squeezed my fists tight. Maybe because I knew he was right, and the feeling of foolishness was just as rancid as the feeling of losing.

My mother clutched me close, her eyes following my father as he left. She watched Elias like he was a stranger, a stray dog that had wandered into a sanctimonial home; she looked at him like she looked at our father.