Sherlock hadn't thought a moment of backing away from this strange door and had plunged in right after Rose, only to feel as though he'd been slammed in the chest when he was completely inside. His eyes widened a bit and he hummed thoughtfully, not at all impressed by the color but by the lack of people.

Or seemingly lack of people. That groan.

He spun about on his heels to peer off towards the sound, brow furrowed heavily and mind racing to catch up, asking himself what could possibly make that sound. Of course, as arrogant as he was, he wasn't keen on finding out when a solitary figure began towards them, its gait slightly broken and part of its jaw hanging off.

"Well," he coughed into his hand. "Something tells me this was a poor idea." He didn't have to be a detective to figure that out.