Rats (Symbol)
The rats in this film serve a few purposes. As carriers of the plague, they represent some more ancient form of evil, bringing a medieval pestilence to an otherwise modern and cosmopolitan town. In this regard, they show that modern society is just as capable as older ones of some swift, gruesome collapse. It's worth pointing out that the rats are brought from a faraway land, reinforcing the theme of the dangerous foreigner, and showing how much of a threat an outsider can prove to be.
Orlock's Shadow (Motif)
Many of the more unsavory acts of vampirism committed by Count Orlock are presented through a projection of his silhouette in shadow on walls. What makes the Nosferatu so terrifying is that he seems to exist between two worlds: the living flesh world of modern-day Europe and some strange afterlife. It's the flesh Orlok who makes real estate deals and travels from town to town, but the shadow of the vampire that creep through doorways and engulfs the soon-to-be victims.
Orlock's Skeleton Clock (Symbol)
At his castle, Count Orlock keeps a macabre clock featuring a skeleton standing atop it. When it strikes midnight, Hutter cuts his thumb, knocking over the first domino of his, Ellen's, and Wisborg's collective fate. It's a poetic touch, with the dancing skeleton and the midnight hour acting as symbols of the occult forces that will come to dominate the film. It's at this exact moment, this strike of midnight, that everything starts to unravel.
The Werewolf and the Horses (Allegory)
When Hutter first arrives at the inn where he chooses to rest on his way to Transylvania, the innkeeper warns him not to go out that night on account of the werewolf roaming the hills. We see a fairly uncanny-looking puppet of a werewolf prowling the rocky hills as a pack of horses scatter away. The countryfolk and the horses share a rightful fear of the monsters, and this is our first suggestion that there is some intervention against his own fate that Hutter chooses to ignore. Horses will appear again and again in the film as simple servants of humans, but perhaps there's something to be learned from the animal, something misunderstood by the modern-day human.
Earth (Motif)
Murnau develops a nuanced meditation on nature throughout the film, thanks in large part to his handling of earth. The mountains are, on the one hand, given to us as a symbol of nature's glory, some vista typically inaccessible to the city folk, a disconnect that is perhaps the root of Hutter's inability to keep in touch with forces of nature. On the other hand, we have the "goddamned soil" in which the Nosferatu sleeps every night and uses to contain his hordes of infected rats. Here, the earth itself is infected with some primordial evil, acting as a substrate for the wicked.
