Curwen walked into the empty school, out of sight of prying eyes, before uncorking the vials in his hand. To call something up you needed either a body or a name. It was far easier to do with a body, or at least the essential parts. In his notebooks Curwen's ancestor had boasted that, were you to render them down into what he called their "essential salts," a man could contain the entire ark of Noah within his medicine cabinet. Curwen himself highly doubted that, but the process for rendering a creature down had proven useful. He upended the vials in his hand, allowing the salts to trickle out behind him. 

Normally some sort of incantation would be in order, an invocation of gods far older than man in an incomprehensible tongue no human mouth was designed to speak, but for these all that was required was a sharp, short whistle. They would come. After all, he was their master. The whistle echoed out into the empty hallways and reached out beyond the veil of death. The salts began to swirls up, morph, and mutate, until beside Curwen strode a pack of twelve or so ash-grey hounds of varying breed and build. "Seek." He said, and each of their noses lifted into the air. One pointed down the hallway and barked once before taking the lead as Curwen and the pack Strode along behind it. 

They came to the broken stairway leading into the basement, and Curwen pet the lead dog on the head as he strode forward, alone to the edge of the hole and peered over. His relief upon seeing the children alive almost overwhelmed the confusion at the two adults down there. "Hey." He said, calling down to them and pulling out his badge and flashing to them. "My name's Curwen, I'm a federal agent. Division 7." He quickly replaced the badge back in his pocket. "Is anyone injured down there? I'm going to try and help you out of there."

He turned back to his pack, and pointed to one of the smaller ones. "Tommy, seek rope." The little shade bounded off on ghostly legs that seemed to carry it far more swiftly than they had any right too. They might look indistinguishable from ordinary dogs save their strange color pallet, but these were shades. They had the endurance of the dead and the speed of the wind. Tommy wold find something like a rope. "The rest of you," he said quietly, so as to not let those in the hole hear. "Seek demonic. If you find it, don't fight. Come back to me." The rest of them scattered in all directions, down the hallway, out windows, one even deforming into a fine smoke and flowing up one of the vents. They would search the city for any sign of demonic activity and report back to him. Hew nodded, and went back to the edge of the hole. "It'll take just a minute. Who are you boys, in the meantime? I was told there were only kids in here."

[@Eviledd1984]