They are not humans
Blake stood amidst the eerie stillness of the clearing, his senses assaulted by the sight of the grotesque scene unfolding before him. The bodies, suspended from stakes like twisted marionettes, bore the marks of decay and desolation. Some were shrouded in webs spun by industrious spiders, while others bore the marks of scavenging insects, their bloated forms writhing with a wriggling mass of beetles and maggots.
Others were simply too dry and couldn't possibly house a living thing.
The harsh elements had taken their toll on the corpses, their once-vibrant forms now withered and desiccated. Some were little more than skeletal remains, their brittle bones exposed to the elements, while others retained a semblance of flesh, though it hung from their frames like tattered rags.
Despite the ravages of time and decay, the bodies remained suspended from their makeshift gibbets, their lifeless forms swaying gently in the breeze.