I won't comment on general editing as it's too late and I don't want to look stupid, I will say however that it's incredibly rare for a US building to have a 13th floor however due to superstition.
Is that so, bluedarky? Hmm, well, you learn something new every day i suppose.
And yes, perhaps editing should be left alone as a topic for now...
How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four; calling a tail a leg doesn't make it a leg.
A good start to what appears to be an interesting story. Certainly Id recommend you keep this going as I want to know whats happening and more to the point why. I loved the bit with the alarm clock. It really brings some depth to the character and the scene.
On some general points, try to avoid putting the same words too close to each other or stating sentences with the same word when the sentences follow each other. Everyone does these things when they first write something, all it means is that you change bits around when edit it. I would recommend writing it, leaving it for a few days or even a week, and then going back over it again. Its a pain, but its good to move on to something else (or some other part of the story).
Where you do have sentences that start with the same word or you have used the same word in quick succession just try re-arranging one bit or change an adjective (or reach for the thesaurus 
).
Plot and pacing wise you seem to have fallen in between action and suspense. Personally Id go for making the opening paragraphs a lot longer. Give the Faithe some more background and let the reader get to know her and also move the bit with Norman watching the Malta entre the building to before the explosion. Then switch to shorter sentences and paragraphs after the door has gone boom. Imagine it like a movie. Slow long shots for the build up and then quick, short, shots for the fight scenes. Mixing the two can work if you do it really well (heck, anything can work its done really well 
), but remember that youre playing to what the reader expects. A confused reader (or one who is disorientated) means they might not be a reader for much longer.
I wont go through every bit as, one you dont generally need it, and two I dont think its right. Here, however, are couple of my thoughts:
body clocks going haywire
Im not sure haywire is the right word. Out of synch or some such sounded as though it might fit better.
which was now blowing about in the early morning breeze. Would Malta really leave a door swinging in the breeze? Would a reasonably heavy door (presumably as its an exterior one) really move in a breeze? They could have just left it ajar or on the latch so they could get out quickly.
Hope this all helps and do shout up if youre not sure what Im on about.
I'ts not often that I stray from the realms of artistry and write a story, however I had a little inspiration for a storyline and thought I'd give it a shot.
Comments are, of course, very much welcome.
Faithe Kain - An Explosion
It was 6:30AM on Friday 13th February, and in Paragon City, Rhode Island, events were proceeding as normal. In Steel Canyon, the ever-restless, ever-fragile economy of Paragon was being overseen by hundreds of everyday people. Several thousand night-shift workers were headed home, shattered after a long nights work, their body clocks going haywire due to their irregular sleeping pattern. And of course, In Atlas Park, on the 13th floor flat of 13 Terrace Street, Faithe Cain was being slowly dragged into consciousness by the irritating buzzing of her alarm clock...
*****
What? Faithe moaned at her alarm clock. She flung her arm out at the wretched machine, hoping that if she flailed at it for long enough she might actually hit the snooze button. After about a minute of smacking the top of her own Horseman of the Apocalypse, Faithe sat up, and quite deliberately pressed the Snooze button. The alarm kept on buzzing. She hit the Snooze button again, harder, to much the same effect and then, out of pure stubbornness, continued to press the button over and over, determined to have her little victory. Still nothing, so she ripped the plug out of the wall, feeling for a moment the pure bliss of victory, and then the alarm started buzzing again. What the hell? Putting down the plug, Faith picked up the machine to examine it, it stopped buzzing. Faithe shook her head, thinking her mind must be playing tricks on her, got up, and went to have a shower.
*****
About half a block away, Norman Bruitt, still in costume as Alpha Ensiform, was walking home. Norman had been acting as bodyguard for Miss Liberty, an easy job, and it never hurt to help people in positions of power. That night though, something unusual had happened, hed seen Malta operatives in Atlas Park. Malta. In Atlas. Malta, one of the most organised and dangerous groups of soldiers in Paragon, in Atlas Park, a place often seen as the safest part of the city. It didnt bode well, not well at all. Norman was so lost in his thoughts about this, that if not for his Rularuus Bane sending a rather painful psychic spike of energy through his mind, he would have missed the rather large group of Malta operatives breaking into a block of flats on Terrace Street...
*****
Faithe stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself and her hair in towels, and sat down on her bed, just as usual. Then it seemed as though she was transported to hell. The door to her flat exploded, showering her with splinters.
Screaming, she backed away from the door. Through the huge cloud of dust generated by the explosion, she could see the outlines of several men. And the guns they were holding. And the grenades strapped to their hips. She screamed louder, backing away further still, until she hit the wall. One of the men came forward through the dust; he seemed to be dressed in some form of military uniform, with goggles, a gas mask and a helmet. The man pointed his gun directly at her and signalled her to walk towards him. Faithe shook her head vigorously. Ill stay away from the scary military man whos pointing a gun at me, thanks, she thought.
The man paused for a moment, then rushed forward and expertly pressed his index and middle finger into a pressure point on her neck. Faithes world melted and blackened, and, as she lost consciousness, a strange thought ran through her mind Why hasnt anyone in the flat realised whats going on? And then, and I only moved here yesterday, I thought Atlas Park was safe?
*****
Norman stood back and watched as the Malta operatives opened the door to the flat with a key, which was odd in itself, where had they gotten a key from? As he watched, crouched down, he wondered what on earth they wanted in a flat in Atlas Park; a celebrity? It must be someone in a position of power...
Snapping his attention back to the group of Malta, he watched them confer amongst themselves before walking slowly through the door. Norman left his cover and went to the door, which was now blowing about in the early morning breeze. Peering in through the door, Norman made sure the Malta hadnt left someone on the bottom floor as a rear guard, they hadnt, a bad sign, it meant that they were confident. Realising he needed to alert the inhabitants to the fact that the building had been invaded by Malta, he politely knocked on the door of the first flat. No answer. He knocked again. No Answer. He tried turning the handle, the door swung inward easily to reveal and empty room. They must have gone to work. Norman tried the next door, no answer again, and once again, the door was unlocked and the room empty. A cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, Norman tried all of the doors on the bottom floor, all 13 of them, nothing.
What was going on here? And then he heard the explosion, and he turned to the stairs and started to run up them 4 at a time.
*****
When Faithe regained consciousness, her hands and feet were tied and she was slung over the shoulder of one of the military men. She tried to shout for help, only to realise her mouth was taped over. So, of course, she started to squirm, if only to spite the man carrying her. The man ignored her struggles and continued to pound down the stairs...
*****
Norman climbed 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 floors. On the seventh floor of the building he could hear the Malta operatives climbing down the stairs. He took the Rularuus Bane from its sheath and stood ready to confront anything that came down those stairs...
And that's where I'll leave it for now...I'd like to see the response before I put everything I've got so far up. No point posting absolutely loads for people to read if it's actually terrible and no one's interested.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading, please do comment,
Thanks,
Darkest.
How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four; calling a tail a leg doesn't make it a leg.