One hundred husks

For the last few years, my job was to deliver the supplies to the neighboring settlement.
Both my boss and friends warned me about mysterious disappearances that plagued that place. Even its inhabitants wished me a safe way back home. However, I didn't pay any attention to that.
At least in the beginning.
Two years ago it started happening more often than ever before.
At some point, people almost completely stopped leaving their houses.
The streets, once brimming with life, were now completely abandoned. It was like walking through a ghost town, with familiar faces seen only when they opened their doors to receive packages.
Still, I continued my job. They needed me more than ever before.
Only last month, only 30 people were left.
Yesterday, when I entered their town, the gates were open. There were no guards, even within the safety of the single tower. I didn't really have to check. I felt there was no one left. Still, I wanted to deliver those packages, even to the empty houses. I don't know why. Maybe out of obligation. Maybe as my last job here.
Whatever was the reason, the sound of my steps on the cobblestone was the only one that broke the silence surrounding me.
It didn't take me long to notice something wrong. Well, besides the "everyone disappeared" part.
Most of the houses were covered with some kind of roots.
As I walked by them, I could swear I've heard and seen them pulsing a little.
At first, I ignored it, but as I delivered the last package to the last empty house, my curiosity got the best of me.
I started following the roots towards their source.
They twisted and turned, but they all seemed to lead in the same direction. The roots looked kinda sharp and the farther I went the quicker their pulsing got.
And then I smelt it. A heavy metallic smell permeating the air. I could feel it soaking into my clothes.
Soon, the sight of the sky and the higher layer have been completely blocked by the branches of the plant I approached. At least I think they were branches. They looked exactly the same as the roots I followed.
I've seen something hanging amongst them.
I don't know why, but I went farther and farther. The smell now was so strong I had problems with breathing. I had to cover my face with my hand because my eyes started tearing up.
My foot got caught on the root and my face met with the ground. Or at least I hoped it would be ground, but it was harder and colder.
As I opened my eyes, I saw a horrifying sight. I was laying in the mountain of bones.
I screamed, stood up and backed away. I tripped again, this time on my back. Because of that I could finally see what was hanging on the branches above me. And I wish I didn't.
Humans. Animals. And other creatures. All of them were impaled on the pulsing limbs of a tree. They were dried up. Hundreds of husks covering the branches. The worst thing, I could still recognize some of the townsfolk I used to visit.
Something wrapped around my feet. I tried to free it, but it started pulling me. Through the pile of bones, through the roots. And then it pulled me into the air.
Hanging with my head down, I could see the tree trunk. Just like the rest of its parts, it was pulsing.
And now, a few of its sharp branches were getting closer and closer to me.
I screamed.
The tree opened its eyes.