Lucky Strike

I was standing in a large room. The man walked up to me, smiling or maybe some kind of a smirk. He was young, dirty blonde hair, with short hair, could have been some kind of military cut. He could have been French, or some kind of European, but most definitely not a person of middle eastern discent. He is very big and strong. Well built, muscular. I wish I would have noticed his eye color. I just stood there as he walked up to me, I said something to him, something about pain. He reached up and pulled my shirt back from right under my neck. He held it open, creating a space between my chest and the shirt. With his other hand he dropped a lit match inside the space. Flames came up, burning on me. He held me still by my shoulders so I couldn't move. I tried to move, but I could not. I said said again to him, you can't hurt me, I don't feel this and he just held me, and I woke up.