Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - The Shocking Case of Noela Rukundo Betrayed by Husband and Back From the Dead PART2 #69

Episode Date: October 26, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #truecrimecases #attemptedmurder #shockingstories #darktruecrime #survivalagainstbetrayal  Part 2 continues the shocking true crime case of Noela Rukundo. After surviving her husband’s attempt to have her killed, Noela uncovers the disturbing details behind the murder plot. This part dives deeper into the twisted betrayal, the hired hitmen, and the chilling aftermath of realizing that the person meant to protect her was the one orchestrating her death.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truecrime, betrayalstory, shockingtruecrime, attemptedmurdercase, survivalhorror, betrayalbyhusband, horrifyingplot, murderforhire, truecrimestories, darkestbetrayal, survivalmiracle, crimeandbetrayal, chillingtruecrime, realcrimestory

The story of Noela and the betrayal. Life has this weird way of throwing punches when you least expect it. Some of those punches are small annoyances, like missing your bus or spilling coffee on your favorite shirt. But others are so heavy, so destructive, that they flip your entire world upside down. That's pretty much what happened to Noelah. And trust me, once you hear her story, you'll probably sit back, shake your head, and think, Damn, people can be monsters. So let's rewind.

Let's go back before everything went to hell. Noela wasn't always carrying around this deep wound. At one point, she was just like anyone else, trying to live, trying to love, trying to build a family. The man in question, Belna, was someone who, on paper, seemed like the perfect match. At least, that's how it started. See, Baelna wasn't allowed, social butterfly type. Pain had shut him down a long time ago. He was introverted, closed off, always kind of wrapped up in his own silence.

Making friends wasn't easy for him. Opening up. Even harder. But then came Noela, bright, charismatic, funny, full of life. She was the total opposite of him, and maybe that's why it worked. She had this natural energy, this warmth that broke through his walls. At first, she was just there as a friend. She offered support, listened to him, helped him crawl out of that dark shell.

They started hanging out, slowly becoming closer. She introduced him to people, her friends, even her kids. She already had five children of her own, which sounds like a lot, but she carried motherhood like a champ. and eventually, something bloomed between them. They didn't just stay friends, they fell in love. Two years later, they were married. And not long after, they added three more children to the mix. So yes, that meant ten people under one roof.

Ten lives. Ten voices. Ten sets of needs. It sounds chaotic, but it wasn't. At least from the outside. they were thriving. They all moved into a beautiful house in Kings Park, a suburb of Melbourne. The place had this cozy vibe, one of those houses that feels alive, where every corner holds

laughter, mess, and love. Friends and neighbors adored them. People would say things like, what a lovely family, and they meant it. Now, Belna, yeah, he was still introverted. But one thing was clear, he loved Noela. Or so it seemed. She was his son, the bright star that lit up his quiet world. And she was everything, outgoing, charismatic, hilarious, the type of person who could walk into a room and instantly make it warmer. She was a loyal friend, an incredible mom, the kind of woman people looked up to. Sundays were their family ritual. They'd all dress up in their best outfits, pack everyone into the car, and head to church. Imagine that, ten people, all smiling, all walking into mass together. Their kids were polite, well-behaved. On the surface,

it was the perfect picture. They looked happy. And in many ways, they were. But life, like I said, has a way of throwing punches. January 2015. That That was when everything cracked open. News arrived from Burundi, Noela's home country. Her stepmother had passed away. It was heartbreaking. And it also meant that Noelah needed to travel. Now here's the thing, big families come with big costs.

A trip like that, flights, hotel stays, food, transportation, was way too expensive for everyone to go. So, after talking it through, Noela and Bailna decided that only she would make the journey. He'd stay home with the kids. That was the plan. Simple, logical. At the end of January, Noela landed in Burundi. Her brother met her there, and they checked into the same hotel.

The days that followed were emotionally exhausting. Burundian funerals aren't short affairs, they stretch across days, filled with rich rituals, prayers, visits, and endless conversations. People kept coming to give condolences. Noela tried to hold herself together, but grief was eating her alive. By the time January 21st rolled around, she was drained. That afternoon, she couldn't take it anymore. She went into her hotel room, closed the curtains, climbed into bed, and just lay there, trying to breathe. That's when her phone rang. It was Bailena. He told her not to give in to the darkness. Don't just lie there, he insisted. Get up. Go out. Take a walk. If you stay in bed,

you'll drown in your sadness. You need to move. And you know what? She agreed. She thought, okay, maybe he's right. Maybe I need to push myself. She hung up, grabbed her purse, and stepped out into the street. That was when everything changed. The moment she walked outside, a man appeared. Out of nowhere. And he had a gun. Don't scream. Don't move. Don't draw attention, he barked. You're being kidnapped.

Noela froze. Her heart hammered in her chest. She obeyed, what else could she do? The man shoved her a few meters forward, opened the back door of a car, and forced her inside. Two men were waiting in the back seat. Both armed. They squeezed her in between them. Someone tied a scarf around her eyes, blinding her completely. Noela didn't say a word.

She didn't dare. She just listened as one of the kidnappers told the driver. Let's go." The car drove for 30, maybe 40 minutes. Time felt strange, stretched out by terror. When they finally stopped, the men dragged her out. She couldn't see, but she could hear. The place had an echo, like a warehouse or some abandoned building.

They tied her up and sat her down. Then came the voices. They argued, whispered, debated. She caught fragments, they needed to call the boss. They had to confirm they got her. They needed to talk about the next payment. And then, silence. Until one of them turned to her.

What did you do to this man? The kidnapper asked. Why did he pay us to kill you? Her blood ran cold. What man? I don't have problems with anyone. The man's answer was ice in her veins. Your husband.

Noela couldn't process it. No. That's impossible. You're lying. My husband would never, he loves me. He takes care of me. He's a good father. He would never hurt me.

But they were dead serious. They repeated it again and again, her husband was the one who ordered her death. To prove it, they pulled out a phone, dialed a number, and put it on speaker. And then she heard his voice. Belanga's voice. Cold. Emotionless. Calculating. Kill her, he said. Shoot her and get rid of the body. I'll make the next payment. Noela fainted. When she came to, everything felt surreal. She couldn't believe what she'd heard.

Her husband, the man who held her when she cried, the man she thought adored her, the father of her children, had ordered her execution. But fate twisted in an unexpected way. The kidnappers didn't kill her. Why? Two reasons. First, when they asked for her last name, Rukundo, she mentioned that her brother shared it. Turns out, one of the kidnappers actually knew her brother. They were friends. That connection saved her life.

Second, these men said they didn't kill women or children. They were in it for money, not blood. So instead of executing her, they decided to stage the whole thing. They confessed everything. Baelna had paid them in November as a deposit. He'd been planning her death for months. And she? She'd walked straight into the trap without suspecting a thing.

They told her flat out, you've been stupid. You didn't see the signs. He tricked you. And he wants you dead. For two days, they kept her hidden. Meanwhile, her brother frantically searched for her at the hotel, went to the police, even called bail-naw. But bail-naw? He pretended to care while doing nothing. In his mind, the plan was already complete, his wife was gone.

He even started spreading lies, saying Noela had been in an accident, that her body would be sent back, that a funeral was coming. But she wasn't dead. She was trapped in a nightmare, listening as the kidnappers continued their little charade. At one point, they even called bail-na again, demanded another $2,400. And he paid it without hesitation. He thought he was buying her death. Finally, the kidnappers released her. Before letting her go, they handed her something crucial, an SD card filled with evidence.

bank transfers, phone recordings, messages, proof that her husband had plotted everything. But there was a catch. They gave her 80 hours. 80 hours to leave the country, or else she might not be so lucky next time. So Noela had a mission. She couldn't tell anyone in Burundi,

not her brother, not her family. If word slipped back to Baalna, he could hire others to finish the job. Instead, she called someone she trusted deeply, her pastor in Australia. She poured out everything, the funeral, the kidnapping, the betrayal, the evidence. She begged him for help. Her children were in danger. Her life was hanging by a thread.

And under the same roof as her kids was the man who had ordered her death. She had 80 hours. And this is where her story takes a turn from tragedy to something out of a thriller movie. To be continued.