Natasha slowly opened her door, she had transitioned into a crouching position in case the thing had somehow made its way upstairs. Staying low hopefully meant she was out of its line of sight. She poked her head round the door to check for any sign of movement.

A few minutes pass before she was sure nothing was moving; now she could see her 'dear' brother sprawled dead out on the floor in high definition. The sight of it almost made her want to hurl. Her foot had touched [i]That[/i]. The grey skin on his face had a dent where she had placed pressure on it momentarily with her foot.

Shivers ran throughout her body at the thought  of her foot touching the thing on the ground that she quickly stepped over it, she stared at the wall ahead to force herself from looking back at the corpse.

So once again she made her way down, missing the appropriate steps and upon reaching the bottom step, she resumed her crouching position. The smell of rotting corpse wafted out if the room greeting her at the bottom of the stairs. The stench was making her eyes water, as a solution to deal with the smell for now she pulled the hood of the wolf jacket over her head and pulled the strings till the hood closed around her face enough to cover her nose and mouth. She put the knife down for the next part; she tied the two strings together to hold the hood in place, afterwards she picked up her knife and decide now would be the best time to look at what was in the living room.

A zombie. A bloody zombie. [i]What.[/i]  

Suddenly the many tv / gaming zombie tropes flashed through her head. Natasha grimaced and decided that it would be best to kill the zombie in the living room first and re-kill the corpses on the living room floor as a safety measure.

In her crouch position, Natasha reached into her jacket pocked to take out a screw. She attempted to lob it over the zombies head to hit the wall beside it to distract it. As Natasha was never a good shot with many throwing objects, the screw did not reach the desired location.

Instead it had hit the coffee table by full force, making a clattering sound as it bounced off and finally landing on the soft carpet near her  feet with a thud. 

Well darn it.

The zombie spun around at the noise, walking towards it. Walking towards her. Well, less walking and more stumbling and hobbling.

Natasha didn't have long till it would reach her, the options raced through her mind. Her heart could be heard in her ears, the adrenaline started to rush through her veins and she went into auto-pilot mode.
She dashed at the zombie, quickly, closing the distance before she swung the knife upwards into the jaw of the zombie, pulling the knife away quickly. The motion caused the jaw to come  away with the knife. 
She glanced at the pierced jaw on her knife and took a few steps back till she was in the doorway, she slammed the back of the knife into the wooden frame, splintering the wood and the jaw. She took a couple of second to get her breath back.

The adrenaline was slowly wearing off. The short burst of full blown energy gave her a slight advantage as well as the fact the zombie could no longer  bite her. With less energy than the first time, she dashed again, with the split second decision to aim to cut off its head. She poised the knife so it was aiming at the jugular as she entered her second dash.

She was not as accurate as the first time, she was able to get the knife in the base of the neck and using the momentum of the dash she pushed the zombie backwards, making him fall to the ground.

The zombies arms flailed as Natasha dug the knife deeper and tried -quickly as possible - to cut off the zombies  head.
It took  a good few minutes but after a while the deed was done and she was able to wipe the sweat of her forehead, before she proceeded to do the same with the other two corpses laying on the ground which she could now identify as her mother and father.

She felt like an empty shell. She had cried all the way through of cutting the  heads off her parent's corpses. It took way longer than the living  zombie. Her face was smeared with zombie/human blood and tears. The mixture only came to be as she tried to wipe her tears through the process. The threat of bile ebbed in the back of her throat.

Now at least 10-15 minutes later; she sat there at the dining room table, feeling of nothing. A cold meat sandwich sat in front of her at the table. Her tummy was rumbling still yet she had not taken  a single bite, it was the feeling of something soft and furry against her legs made her jump.

Looking down at her legs, she sees the family cat just causally rubbing up against her. "Rocco..." She whispered as that was all she could  muster up to do. She reached a hand down to stroke the male tabby cat.

She smiled sadly down at the purring ball of fur. "Rocco, darling. Why are you still here?" She questioned the non-speaking animal. She picked him up and placed him on her lap. He turned from her to sniff what was on the table in front of him. Her meat sandwich. He eagerly sniffed at the meat, slowly Natasha caught on. "No Rocco!" laughing at the cat; falling back into a time before everything went down hill. "You can't have that, its mine." smiling at the ball of fur, she took him off her lap and decided to take a bite from the sandwich - claiming it as hers in front of the cat-  before getting up to feed him.

She opened the door to the kitchen, Rocco shot in and she followed shortly after. Remembering to close the door after her, semi conscious of her current situation. Opening the fridge she got out a tin of unopened cat food and opened it to  scoop out the contents in the cat bowl. She refilled the other side of the cat bowl with the biscuits he liked so much and went into the conservatory to open the back door so the cat could exit anytime.

With that out the way and the traumatic event deeply hidden in her mind and temporarily forgotten, Natasha started to collect supplies that she could find in the house. Keeping in mind to loot the surrounding houses; if nobody is alive inside, or in case of zombies? Fight her way in.